For Science!
by reflectiveless
Summary: John looses his job and resentfully accepts to be Sherlock's guinea pig for his experiments. Sherlock quickly takes advantage of the situation. John occasionally takes revenge as well. Weird experiments and slash. May be rated higher later.
1. A Promise Made

For Science!

Chapter 1:

A Promise Made is a Promise Kept

That morning, John immediately regretted his decision from the night before.

"You already said you would do it, you can't back out now."

"Well I was desperate and depressed last night! I could very well go out and find a new job before the rent is due."

"In this economy? Granted you are a very skilled surgeon, I doubt you will find a new job in time, besides, I am hardly requiring much from you, think of what a great opportunity this is!"

"Well it's your fault I was fired!"

"It's my fault you decide to accompany me on late night cases that cause you to fall asleep at work? Now really John, don't be absurd."

"I've changed my mind and that's that!"

Sherlock stood in John's bedroom doorway looking hurt and dejected. "But you promised."

John let out a heavy sigh. "I just don't want to be your live in guinea pig."

"Fine. You have till the first." Sherlock slammed the door and John could hear his heavy footsteps pounding down the stairs quickly.

John knew Sherlock had never been one to mind if the rent or bills were paid for or not and was always willing to lend him money, he even let John use his credit card for groceries. No, this wasn't about the rent at all. Sherlock was simply punishing John for going back on his promise.

John frowned as he got up and slowly dressed for the day, he knew what he had to do no matter how much he didn't want to go through with it. He confronted the sulking detective on the couch.

"Look, I'm sorry."

Sherlock just looked away as if he didn't hear him.

"I'll do it ok?"

The detective's eyes grew wide, "Really? You're not just saying that so-"

"I mean it. Just… don't tell anyone ok? It's bad enough I'm going through with it."

"Of course." Sherlock beamed.

"and it's only until I find a new job."

"Fine, fine. Although I do think you would be getting the better end of the deal this way."

"Trust me, you could pay my rent for my entire life and I don't think I would be getting the better deal." John sighed.

"Besides," Sherlock ignored John's comment, "You'll have more free time to accompany me on cases."

"I already see you almost all day everyday…." John could see his dating life and social life falling apart before his eyes,

"Oh this will be so much fun! Really we should have thought of this earlier."

"Just warn me before you do anything to me alright?"

"But John, that could jeopardize the results of some of the experiments."

"Warn me whenever possible, and don't do anything to me if it will affect my life outside this flat." John's voice was very stern.

"Oh alright." Sherlock huffed but he knew he was still getting his way.

John left to make breakfast for them both, whether Sherlock refused to eat it or not. Sherlock watched him from his thinking position on the couch, cataloging his every movement.

_Yes, this was going to be very fun indeed. _

"So, what's on today's agenda?" John called from the kitchen while making eggs.

"There's no new cases so I thought we could go ahead and get started on experiments."

"Ah… great," his voice dripped with nervous sarcasm. "Any, uh, ideas for today then?"

* * *

A/N: I hope you like this so far, please R&R

This story will get weird, probably smutty, probably weird smut.

I would love any and all 'experiment' suggestions. That term will have a very loose definition for this story including literal experiments, social experiments, ect.


	2. Motionless

Chapter 2

Motionless

John sat motionless in his chair, bare feet flat on the ground and arms laying flat on the arm rests.

"How much longer?"

Sherlock frantically wrote notes in a thick composition book, "The initial exam is very important John. I have quite a few experiments I would like to run but I need to get this data first. Make sure then you aren't compromised between experiments."

John swallowed loudly, "You promised nothing would have long lasting affects."

"That I did." He continued to scribble in his notes.

"Well?!"

"Relax, I will not do anything to you that will have indefinite affects. Everything is either reversible or will wear off."

"And you swear to me that this won't affect my life outside the flat?" John narrowed his eyes. He knew there were always loopholes with Sherlock.

"To the best of my knowledge and efforts, no."

John wasn't completely satisfied with that answer but he sighed with acceptance. Sherlock put his notebook down and smiled slyly at John. "Ready?"

John bit his lip nervously, "I'm not sure. What are you going to do to me?"

"I've never had a willing test subject before, so there's a lot I would like to do, but since you seem nervous we can just work through the simpler things first if you like."

John nodded, "simple, simple is good."

"Hmm. John, do you have any plans for the rest of the day?"

John glanced at the clock, it was still pretty early in the morning, "Just tonight, I have a date."

Sherlock tried his best not smile, "Ah, well, good thing it's morning. I know what I'd like to test today."

"Wont affect my date will it?" he remained sitting in his chair as the detective sprinted off into the kitchen."

A few moments passed in silence before Sherlock returned with a cup of what appeared to be tea in his hands. "Affects should wear off well before then." He held the cup up to John.

"Er, what is it?"

"It's a blind experiment. Just drink it. Please?"

John always got worried when Sherlock said '_please,'_ it usually meant something bad. He took the up and drank it all in one gulp. To his surprise it even tasted like tea.

"This isn't some kind of placebo affect is it?"

"Oh please, the placebo test wont be for a few days. Now just sit there calmly." Sherlock took the cup back and fixated his eyes on the doctor as he relaxed back into his chair.

"So how long do I wait?"

Sherlock took the notebook back out and began writing. "How do you feel?"

"Uh, normal I suppose."

"Interesting." He scribbled some more and checked his watch. Sherlock looked back up and John and smiled. "Of course I've never actually tested this drug before so the time results could very, it could be an hour, two hours, or days."

"DAYS!? Sherlock you just promised me that-!" John's eyes grew wide.

"Yes John?"

"What the blood hell did you do to me?!"

"I told you, it's a blind experiment I can't just tell you." He brought his hands up to his thinking position and took in the perplexed expression on his friends face. "You did allow me to do this after all."

"Damn it Sherlock! I'm trying to punch you in the face right now but I'm not moving! Why?" John remained perfectly still.

"Sentiment of our close friendship preventing you from inflicting bodily harm to me perhaps?"

"No, definitely not that! I can't move at all!"

"Not entirely true. You seem to be able to talk just fine." Sherlock wrote down more notes. "A very interesting development really. I had hoped this drug might come in useful for apprehending suspects while still allowing them to talk and thus give away evidence. It seems to be a success! This is great news, you have been most helpful John."

John sighed. "Great… so you only said that to see how I would react I take it?"

"I needed you to have a great desire to move, yes."

"Fine, and how long will this last?"

"No idea."

"I really hate you, I hope you know that. If this lasts more then an hour I might just kill you."

Sherlock turned the tv on and turned John's chair to face it. "I'll be in my mind palace, alert me as soon as you can move."

* * *

Hours passed and John wasn't sure how much longer he could take it. From the corner of his eye he could see Sherlock as motionless as he was in deep thought. How the man could remain that still for so long without being drugged was beyond him.

"You should have been one of those bloody living statues at the park."

"Hm? John?" Sherlock looked up with a brief look of confusion on his face, "Ah, can you move yet? I'll need to write down…" his voice trailed off as he went to reach his notebook.

"No I bloody can't!"

"Oh." He set the notes back down. "I gave you specific instructions not to disturb me until you could."

"I've been like this since 8am Sherlock!"

"and?"

"And it's 3'o clock now! I'm starving! What on earth am I supposed to do?"

"Oh. This lasted longer then I thought it would." The detective stood up. "I should lessen the amount of the drug I use next time. This is far longer then desired."

"Ha! You're telling me? Just please give me something to snap out of it already yea?"

"Can't."

John's body ached to move, "You promised me-!"

"Not everything has an 'antidote', some things just wear off naturally and thus don't need one. This will just go away eventually."

"How am I suppose to eat? And what about my date tonight?"

"You'll just have to cancel it. Just think of how much you are giving to science and law enforcement, now, doesn't it seem selfish to want to go on some silly date considering what science would have given up if you didn't comply?"

"You really have a way of twisting things!"

"Besides. I'll feed you." His voice sounded far behind John now like it was coming from the kitchen.

A few minutes later Sherlock returned with a bowl of chicken soup and a smile. He pulled his chair close to John's and leaned in uncomfortably close too him with a spoon of the soup in hand.

"Open."

"You're kidding right?"

"You incessantly complain when I don't give you enough time during cases to eat, so eat." He waited patiently with his spoon until John reluctantly opened his mouth. Sherlock happily thrust the spoon in.

"mhph! Not so fast!"

"Sorry." He slowed down his pace considerably and continued patiently until the soup was finished. "There. Better now?"

"Er yes. Uh, thanks?"

"Anytime." Sherlock's eyes darted across John's body. "Can you feel anything?"

"Uh... I don't know."

Sherlock reached his slim pale hand out and poked John in the chest. "We should conduct a test. Feel that?"

Despite his slow movement it still surprised John, he had assumed not being able to move he wouldn't be able to feel either. "Yes."

"Hm. Interesting." Sherlock stood and kneeled by the doctor. "I'm going to touch you now."

John bit his lip "Right."

Sherlock placed both his hands on John's shoulder's and slid them slowly down his arms until he reached both of his hands and cupped them. "Feel that?"

John tried to nod at first and realized he couldn't, instead he let out a croaky "yes."

Sherlock nodded and placed his hands on John's chest and rand them downwards just as slowly. "yes." He did the same to his legs and ended by cupping John's still bare feet. "Yes. Ah! Stop that! You're tickling me!"

Sherlock smiled, "Sorry." He then placed both hand on John's face and peered at his irsis, checking for dilation.

"Erm, I can feel that too."

Sherlock released John's face and grabbed his notebook writing down all of his new findings.

_'At least that part is over'_ John thought in relief.

Sherlock eyed him thoughtfully.

"Oh no, I know that look. What are you thinking?"

"Just part of the '_touch'_ experiment."

"Well you've already touched me all over." His voice was firm.

"Not _all over_."

John's eyes widened. "No you bloody wont! I didn't not agree to that!"

Sherlock put his notes down and leaned back towards him. "It's for science John!"

"That doesn't even makes sense! You said this was for apprehending criminals! What are you planning? Giving them a hand job after you've drugged them?"

Sherlock scoffed. "John, you just don't understand." His hand reached for him.

"Sherlock! I mean it!" John cursed at his body.

"Oh fine." His hand and expression both dropped. "But I still want to see the results."

"It's not going to happen."

Sherlock grabbed John's computer sitting on the coffee table near them and began going through John's files. "Vacation photos? Really John?"

"Don't you dare!"

Sherlock set the computer up in front of John with the folder titled 'vacation photos' open. "I'll let you pick which one you would like to watch."

"I hate you, you know that right?"

The detective knew he had won.

"Third one down."

Sherlock double clicked it and the video went to wide screen revealing porn of two busty blonds being intimate with each other. "All you have to do is watch." He picked up his notebook and pen again.

"This is torture! I can't even move!"

A few minutes later and the tenting in his pants started to become painful. "Why are we doing this?" his voice was strained.

"Science John."

John's mobile went off, "Can you hand me my phone? That's probably Jenny asking about our date." Sherlock picked it up and looked at it for a moment. "I have to somehow explain why my crazy flatmate has drugged me and is making me watch porn so I can't make it."

"What!?" came a voice from the phone.

"Um, you can't hold it so I put it on speaker phone for you."

John stared in disbelief. _It wasn't enough that he ruined my date, he just had to go and do a thing like that. _There was really nothing more he could say. "Jenny! I'm joking of course!" he shot Sherlock a look of pure rage. "Ha, me and my weird sense of humor. But um, something has come up actually."

There was quiet on the other end of the line. "I can't believe this. This is the third time you've canceled on me."

"Er, yea, really sorry about that."

"I'm done John. I have better things to do with my life then waist time on you." John frowned.

"Should I hang up now?" Sherlock said with a blank expression. Frustrated yells came from the other end of the phone then the call ended. "Ah, never mind."

John closed his eyes and clenched his teeth.

* * *

10pm rolled around and John was still sitting motionless, this time Sherlock was excitedly telling him all about a case file Lestrade had emailed him.

"Oh John, it's fantastic! I can't wait to investigate!"

"I'm sure."

"There were security cameras everywhere but they didn't catch anything!"

"You told me"

"It's like the body just appeared out of thin air!"

"mhm." His face remained deadpanned.

"You're not listening." Sherlock frowned.

"It's been a long day Lock."

"Long? John, there are exactly the same amount of minutes and hours in every day."

"Oh shut up, you know what I mean. I want out of this damned chair."

"Ah, you're just cranky because you need to sleep."

"I'm not cranky." John mumbled.

"Of course not." Sherlock smiled and leaned down, placing one arm under John's legs and the other on his back.

"Ah! What are you doing?!"

"I'm putting you in bed. Like you said, you have been in this chair for far too long. Besides, the change of position might help speed up your recovery."

"Don't drop me" his arms dangled uselessly by his sides.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He went into his own bedroom.

"Uh, Lock…"

"I'm not carrying you up the stair just so you can sleep in your own stiff bed."

John went silent as he was placed in the much softer bed. His flatmate straightened out his arms and legs and pulled a blanket over him.

"There now. You'll be all better by morning. I'll be in the other room working if you need me."

* * *

A/N: As always, I love reviews! Thank you everyone that has reviewed! I am always looking for experiment suggestions as well!

The only thing I will not do is Pocket!John, but that's because I'm already writing a really long pocket!John (and I just love that story XD )

Also, Sherlock is also going to be subject to experiments gone wrong and revenge from John.


	3. Stiff

Chapter 3

Stiff

John woke as sunlight began to filter into Sherlock's room. He hadn't had a chance to shower the day before since Sherlock's impromptu experiment had caught him off guard. The bed was so much softer then his own he almost stayed. To his horror, when he tried to get up he still couldn't move.

"Sherlock!?"

The detective strolled in a moment later, "Did you need something?"

"It's morning and I still can't move an inch." His voice was hot and tempered.

"Really? That's… huh." He approached his friend and pulled the blanket off him, analyzing his form.

"God damn it Sherlock, you've paralyzed me!"

"Don't be so dramatic. I told you, it will wear off." Sherlock wrapped his slender fingers around John's calf and began massaging the muscle.

"What are you-"

"Trying to stimulate the muscle. Should speed things up. I had hoped to move onto a new experiment today. I don't like delays."

"Well I'm sooo sorry to delay you like this." John huffed sarcastically.

"It's alright, it's hardly your fault." While leaving John's right leg he was about to move on to massaging the left when he made a new discovery. "John! You're poseable."

"What?"

"Your limbs will stay in place. Look." Sherlock grabbed John's torso and lifted him into a sitting position. He slumped over slightly but remained relatively upright.

"Right… Sherlock, I just would really like to be able to move again, so if there is anything, anything at all that you could do."

"Well I do have an idea actually. Warm water can help relax the muscles and it could help you move again. I could just place you in the shower or run a hot bath for you…" his voice trailed off deciding which was better.

"I don't particularly want to get my clothes soaking wet." John could feel his body awkwardly sliding forward more.

"Don't worry." Sherlock put a hand on John's chest to steady him. "I wasn't planning on leaving you in your clothes. That would be horribly irresponsible. I will make sure you get a proper bath."

"Uh that's not what I meant! Not what I meant at all!"

Sherlock was already taking John's shirt off and threw it to the side. He had seen the scar on John's shoulder in passing when he had come out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel before, but he had never seen it up close until now. His eyes lingered on it until he forced himself to look away.

"I really should have had you wear looser pants before the last experiment." He pushed John back onto the bed and began undoing the zipper.

"I am really uncomfortable with you doing this right now." John couldn't muster his stern voice anymore with those milky white hand so close to his crotch. He nearly yelped when Sherlock yanked them off and threw them to where his shirt also lay unceremoniously.

"If it makes you feel better I will leave your boxers on, but you're the one who will be regretting it once you're out of the bath."

"Just please leave them"

Sherlock picked John up bridal style like the night before, supporting his head on his chest, limp arms hanging loosely by his sides.

"This is one of the numerous reasons why I appreciate your height John. You are very conveniently light." The detective grinned.

"One of numerous? What are the other reasons?" he hesitantly asked.

"You make me look taller by comparison, people don't notice you as much which is good when we're under cover or on stake outs, just more convenient really. Besides, if you were any taller that bullet would have gone through your heart and not your shoulder. You're just the right size." Once he reached the bathroom he gently lowered John's body into the bathtub, back resting against the edge so he could sit up.

"Well… I guess you're right. I never really thought about that last one before." John had hated being short his entire life. He never thought of the possibility that it's what had saved him in Afghanistan.

Sherlock turned on the water and the warmth immediately reached John. "Oh, that's quite nice actually."

The detective rolled his sleeves up allowing the tub to fill before continuing to massage his blogger's muscles like he had tried earlier.

It was slow at first, but an hour later and John was able to manage small movements again.

"God I'm glad that's over."

"Likewise. Now we can begin the next experiment." Sherlock grabbed a towel and began drying off his still stiff flatmate.

* * *

A/N: I literally live for reviews, just letting you know.

As always, I love experiment suggestions. :]


	4. Hypnosis

Chapter 4

Hypnosis

It was the day after his near naked bath experience with his socially awkward best friend and flatmate, that John found Sherlock in the front room focusing intently on his laptop.

_'He has his own damn computer, why does he always use mine?'_

As if the detective could hear his thoughts, "Mine is in my room, yours was more convenient."

"You better not be looking at anything I have on there." He could hear faint sound coming from the device meaning the detective was likely watching some sort of video.

"Your '_vacation photos'_ don't exactly interest me John."

All John could manage for that morning was making tea and hoping they had a case, meaning he wouldn't be subject to any of Sherlock's bizarre and possibly dangerous experiments. "So what are you watching then?"

"Informative videos on hypnotism."

John spluttered and nearly dropped his teacup, he had a very bad feeling about today. "Please don't tell me you plan on…" he couldn't bring himself to say the words.

"Hypnotizing you? Of course. Did you know that some people have the gull to claim that they have been hypnotized to perform a crime? The audacity to claim such an absurd thing."

"Oh. So you don't believe in hypnotism then?" If he was lucky he could talk the detective out of this idea.

"Well the common person is so gullible to begin with I think it's highly likely they just absent mindedly pretend to be hypnotized when in fact they're not."

"I see. But you think I will be able to resist your attempt?" The doctor grinned.

The detective shot him a wistful look. "I suppose we'll find out."

An hour into the experiment Sherlock's phone went off.

Have an interesting case for you, meet me at Barts? –GL

On my way. –SH

Sherlock gave John's left arm a single firm tug, instantly waking him with a start.

"We have a case, this will have to be continued later." Sherlock grabbed his coat and practically flew out the door.

John grabbed his jacket while shaking his head knowing Sherlock would never change. His mad flatmate was already in a cab waiting for him by the time he got downstairs.

"Now then, tell me everything you remember from being hypnotized."

John licked his lower lip. He remembered the physically driven commands of falling asleep and waking up, a tug on the right arm had sent him deep into sleep and his left woke him up, although at the time the actions were performed he seemed to lose control over his body, he couldn't recall anything in-between those though. He opened his mouth, "…"

Sherlock looked at him expectantly.

John blinked and tried again. "…"

"Oh, I forgot." Sherlock looked away and out his window.

_'Wait, what?'_ John tried to speak but couldn't. He grabbed Sherlock by the arm until he turned back towards him.

"What is it now?"

Now it was John's turn to look expectantly as he pointed to his mouth. Sherlock only smirked. "Lestrade texted while I was in the middle of trying a new command."

John seemed to be yelling inflammatory remarks while making wild hand gestures but no sound came out. Finally he pointed at Sherlock with dagger like eyes.

"You probably deduced it already, but the last thing I was working on was a way to make a person mute." Sherlock knew full well what to do to make John speak again but the test was to see if he could do it on his own, proving the falsehood of hypnotism.

_'He bloody promised no one would find out and it wouldn't leave the flat.' _Was all John could think of the rest of the very quiet cab ride.

* * *

"Oh good, that was fast." Lestrade stood from his desk to show the pair down to the morgue. "Good to see you John."

John nodded.

"These bodies are rather strange, just wanted you to have a look at them."

Lestrade puched open the double swinging doors to reveal two bodied on carts with sheets still over them. Molly stood back waiting for them to enter. The detective quickly got to work assessing the closest body to him.

"John, diagnosis." Sherlock pulled the sheet off the first body.

John looked at him with a stern face, confusing the on looking Lestrade and Molly.

"Very well. This man seems to have bled to death, obvious from the numerous incisions all over the body. Ah, he's a chemist, and seems to dabble in botany." The room felt too quiet without someone to question how he knew this or exclaim 'brilliant!' The detective moved on to the second body and flashed a look towards his doctor who only continued his mad glare. "Poisoned."

Lestrade stepped back from the bodied and leaned closer to John. "Everything ok between you two?"

John crossed his arms and shook his head.

"Ah, sorry to hear it mate. Dunno how you stand him half the time. What'd he do this time?"

John opened his mouth only to close it quickly again.

"Geez, must have been bad."

_'You wouldn't believe me if I told you.' _The shorter man thought.

"John hand me my phone." Sherlock was still facing the bodied in deep thought and couldn't see the incredulous look on his flatmats face. John gave in, reaching inside Sherlock's pocket to hand him his own damn phone.

"Send a text for me, to 334-7…"

John shoved the phone in Sherlock's chest, he wasn't putting up with this treatment anymore.

"Oof! What was that for? Ah, you're mad with me." Sherlock gingerly took the phone back. "John? Where are you going?" His shorter counterpart quickly walked out and down the hall.

"Oi! You've done it now! Sherlock, you can't keep treating him like that."

"Treat him like what?" he was truly oblivious.

"I'll uh, just go get him." Molly squeaked and dashed out after the doctor.

"Look here, he's not gonna keep putting up with you. I don't know what you two have been fighting about this time, but he's damn mad at you if he's still not said a word."

Sherlock only smirked, "Bit backwards. Everything is fine between us though, he's just being impatient."

"What are you going on about?"

"Can't say." He glimpsed down the hall but John and Molly were already out of sight. "Promised it wouldn't leave the flat."

* * *

John walked briskly down the hall, all he wanted was to catch a cab back home as soon as possible and be spared further embarrassment. '_Shit, and then what? Write where I want to go on a pad of paper?'_

He heard footsteps hurriedly approaching him. _'Crap crap crap, just leave me the hell alone whoever you are.'_

"John! Wait!"

_'damn.'_ He stopped walking and bit hit lip.

"I know he makes you mad" Molly paused to catch her breath. "He makes everyone mad. But he probably didn't mean whatever he did or said. Please come back?"

John gave a silent sigh. His only options were to continue walking and leave Sherlock there, who likely wouldn't mind or notice but in doing so he would look like an ass in front of Molly, or go back and seem like he was brooding in silence. He raised both hands in surrender and went back to the morgue.

"Thank you John."

He nodded.

"See Lestrade, he's already back."

John grabbed Sherlock's arm and practically dragged him out the door. That had been the final straw, he was going home. He didn't care if Lestrade followed and tried to break them up or not.

"John! Let go! Be reasonable!" They were already outside and within range of a cab when Sherlock gave in, "Fine. John you can talk again."

"You're a damn ass you know that." John's voice was louder then he though and he quickly covered his mouth with both hands, releasing Sherlock from his grip.

"There, all better."

Lestrade was breathing heavy finally caught up "I need you back in there, wait, he wasn't talking simply because he told you so? Mate, I'm sorry but that's sorta your own fault."

Sherlock didn't see the first coming, only felt the throbbing in his face after the fact. "You could have said that any damn time!"

"True, but it has compromised the results."

Lestrade was dumbfounded having no idea what was going on.

"You said it wouldn't leave the flat!"

"And it didn't! It's not like you have to talk or that anyone would know. I've stayed true to my word."

_'There's no way I'm getting this right.'_ Lestrade thought. "You two are not playing some weird power trip BDSM games where I work now are you?"

"Well that was an interesting insight into the way your mind works Lestrade. But no." Sherlock's gaze dashed towards John's.

John froze. '_He's not gonna tell him is he?'_

Sherlock hailed a cab, "I've told you all I can about the bodies, it seems we really should be getting back now. Call if you need anything." He stepped into the cab gesturing for John to do the same.

"Oi, fine. John," he took him aside for a moment, "If he's forcing you to do anything against your will tell someone yea?"

John flushed, "It's really not like that." He peered in the cab at the emotionless masked face staring back. "We have, well, sort of an agreement, not like that. It's complicated. Just forget all of this today?"

"Just take care." Lestrade waved him off.

Once in the cab relatively behind closed doors John started telling Sherlock all the reasons why this stunt was _Very Not Good._

"John shut up." The words were monotone but had a powerful affect.

"…"

"There, that's much better. Now I can tell you all about those bodies, and don't worry, I know I'm brilliant, you can tell me later."

John's mad as hell face was back.

"And don't forget you did promise to be my guinea pig."

* * *

A/N: I could almost make this plot bunny a story all of it's own. I think this will have to be a continuous experiment.


	5. Height

Chapter 5

Height

"Sherlock I don't think this is working out. I can't keep doing this, and frankly the hypnosis has got to stop."

"Fine, we'll move onto a different experiment."

"No, no more damn experiments. I've really had enough." John tried to keep calm but it was difficult at best.

"Joooohn." He extenuated the name, "You proooomised."

"I know, I know, but I wasn't prepared for this. Don't you pout at me!"

"What if you got to pick the next one then?" Sherlock pleaded.

"I just don't think I could do it." he ran his hand down his face.

Sherlock flopped limply onto the couch. "This isn't fair."

"Well I don't like being taken advantage of all the time." John snapped back.

"What if…. Oh! John, you can do an experiment to me if you like." He sat back up. "Would that make it fair again?"

John let out a deep sigh, "I'm not exactly a chemist genius with experiments I want to test out."

"You can pick one of mine. You'll be in total control. Please? It will be fun." Sherlock beamed, he really wanted his guinea pig back.

The idea did have its appeal. "Maybe. This isn't a promise though."

Sherlock jumped up and grabbed a list from out of his 'John' notebook. "Here. You can do whichever one you want."

"These are horrible! Sherlock! You can't possibly tell me you are going to do these things to me?!"

"That's just one of my preliminary lists John, ideas I'm still thinking about but know you will likely thing are a '_bit not good.'_ But you can do them to me."

"How… how are these even possible? You know what no, I'm not falling for this, you are clearly mocking my intelligence by allowing me to think these things are possible." John's shoved the list back at Sherlock. "I'm not stupid."

Sherlock had a confused expression. "Well some of them I'm still working on how to do, but the majority are possible. Just in need of testing is all. Please John? I really need you, you are of great value to me."

Sherlock looked like a sad kitten. "Oh Lock… give me that list." John read over some of the ideas again with an uneven expression. In truth he did want revenge for the last experiment, but he didn't want to be too cruel. "What's this highlighted one? Placebo effect?"

"That's for later. I already have a plan for that one anyway, so it wont be worth anything if you to do to me." He smiled knowing what that one would be for.

"Fine. These are all abbreviated… mostly just one word. What's this one then? Height?" he looked at the detective quizzically.

Sherlock bit hit lip and quickly stopped, trying to seem indifferent. "Oh that one is boring, try..-"

John caught the subtle concern that shot across his flatmat's face. "Yup, I think that's the one. I pick that one."

"Really, you wont find it enjoyable in the least, I assure you."

"You said I could pick anything I like." '_If he doesn't even want to do it must be good.'_

The uneasiness in Sherlock's face was easily readable now, "Only if you promise I can continue to experiment on you."

"Deal."

"I'm sure you would much rather enjoy one of the other-"

"Sher- lock. Tell what I'm to make you do." John crossed his arms, his decision was made.

"Fine." He looked down as he shuffled to the kitchen, which was as always serving as a makeshift lab. "I need you to catalogue any changes that occur." He brought the clear liquid filled vial up and frowned. "Are you sure you want me to…?"

"Drink it."

Sherlock took in a deep breath before he downed the vial in one gulp. John watched expectantly.

"So… what's supposed to happen?"

Sherlock let out a loud hiccup and covered his mouth. "I change my mind." He turned to leave for his room.

"Hey hold on, you already took it, you might as well stay now." John went after him and grabbed his coat sleeve. _'has it always been so baggy?'_

Sherlock opened the door but John was already on him, "Oh no you don't. You are staying out here and letting me bask in your misery." He aimed for the taller man's center of gravity but evidently miscalculated and sent them both tumbling for the floor. "Er, sorry about that. Huh, your coat really is too big for you, and here I thought you made everything tailor fit." He stopped as he saw the detective's eyes water over. "Hey, I didn't mean it honest." John quickly stood and helped Sherlock to his feet."

"Just leave me alone for a bit? This is really embarrassing." Sherlock half mumbled as he stood, now the same height as John.

John's eyes doubled in size. "That's… that's not even possible!"

"Well it is and I greatly regret letting you do this to me."

"You took the damn vial." John found he couldn't stop grinning. "Don't tell me you're embarrassed about being short? For Christ sakes Sherlock, you were just telling me the other day you were keen on me being short, and you're the same bloody height as me now."

Sherlock peeled off the oversized coat, the rest of his clothes just as awkwardly too long. "It's not done yet." He turned his face away.

"You're such a drama queen."

"John! I don't even know how long the effects will last." Sherlock hiccupped again.

"Oh hush, we'll just stay in the flat until it's out of your system."

Sherlock pulled off his shoes and threw them at the ground angrily, still shrinking. "This was a stupid experiment." He turned to flop on his bed and stopped.

John brought a fist up to stiffen his laughter but it still came through. "You're too short for that. You'll have to jump." He lost all control and buckled his knees so he was on the floor.

"Shut up, it's not funny."

John wiped the tears from his eyes and tried to stand again. "It really is actually. You're half a foot shorter then me." John picked up his slightly under five foot detective by the waist. Sherlock struggled against him at first but he was out muscled and outsized, he soon gave in and was limp in John's arms. "I'm making you food, you're going to enjoy it, and I'm going to enjoy being taller."

"I hate you John."

"Now you know how I feel when you experiment on me."

John placed Sherlock in a chair at the table and cleared away some of the science equipment. "I'll bet one of my jumpers will fit you better."

"Don't forget you promised to be my guinea pig again! You will truly regret it if you dare '_dress me up'_." His normally baritone voice was much lighter now, making John snicker. "What?! What is it?"

"Oh Sherlock, you're adorable!"

Someone knocked hardily at the flat door. Sherlock looked up in a panic "Make them go away, please John! Make whoever that is leave."

John's heart melted a little "You really don't want anyone to see you like this do you?"

Sherlock down in defeat. All John wanted to do was ruffle his dark curls, but instead he stood to answer the door. Before he could reach it however the door swung open as the tip of an umbrella pushed.

"Mycroft? This really isn't a good time."

"I need to see my little brother, it's rather urgent, there's a case involving…." He stopped mid sentence as his eyes scanned the room and stopped on a very short Sherlock.

"I'm in no mood to help you, just go."

"I thought you knew better by now then to experiment on yourself." Mycroft grinned giddily as he approached the shorter Holmes.

"I don't anymore." He said matter of factly.

"Ah, so this happened naturally then?" he plopped the end of his umbrella on top of Sherlock's head, making the detective's face go red.

_'He's been through enough torture for one day' _"He's telling the truth, he only did it for me."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. "Tired of getting the short end of the stick I take it?"

"Very funny." Sarcastic John was not someone to be messed with. "I've been volunteering for his experiments is all, and as moral compensation I got to pick one for him."

Mycroft's smile widened. "You never cease to amaze me with the feats you manage with my brother Dr. Watson." Turning back toward Sherlock he added. "Well I'll leave you alone until you are more willing to leave your flat. It's been fun seeing you like this again. Until later." He waved dismissively and left.

"At least he's gone." He stepped closer to John. "I thought you didn't want anyone knowing?"

"Well… it's probably safer him knowing then if something were to happen and he didn't." John looked down into Sherlock's eyes. "What did he mean by 'again.'?"

Sherlock shifted his weight were he stood. "I didn't get my growth spurt until I was almost out of highschool."

"You were…."

"Yes John, I was the shortest person in school. Then overnight I was taller then most everyone. It was horrible and awkward and I don't want to talk about it." He crossed his arms and jumped onto the couch.

John gave a sympathetic smile.

"Stop it. Don't pity me."

"I'm not." He sat down by his friend. "Believe it or not, I was always the tallest of my class until middle school."

"What happened then?"

"I never grew another inch. Been this height ever since, so I know a thing or two about being made fun of."

Sherlock loosened his stiff posture a bit. It was late afternoon and the light peering through the windows cast off Sherlock's cheekbones, making them more prominent then normally.

"I'm still making you dinner." He patted Sherlock's head before leaving.

* * *

That night Sherlock was back to sulking. John woke and sleepily headed for the kitchen.

"Lock? You still up?" he saw his still shorter flatmate sitting on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees and hands supporting his head. He looked depressed with his violin next to him.

"I can't play. My arms are too short."

John tilted his head looking at his short and somewhat pathetic friend. "Come on then."

"Hm?"

"Get up." He pulled Sherlock up and led him back to his room. "You should really go to sleep, it's late."

"It's weird. Having to look up at you when you talk." He had to make an effort to climb into bed.

"I have to look up at you when you talk. Actually, it's nice getting to look down at your messy hair for once."

"What if I'm stuck like this?"

"You wont be. You previously promised me everything to be tested was reversible."

"I know, but what if-"

"Shhh." John pulled the sheet around Sherlock and then got in bed on the other side.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure you get some sleep tonight."

An hour passed and Sherlock made sure John was dead asleep before he scooted his smaller body against John's chest and snuggled into him, gleeful when his blogger's arm subconsciously wrapped around his body.

"G'night Jawn." He yawned.

Being short did have some advantages.

* * *

A/N: Whoah. How'd that get so fluffy?

:D Please R&R!

I love crazy suggestions.


	6. Transformation

Chapter 6

Transformation

John woke to the faint smell of cigarette smoke and something strangely chemical. Not wanting to wake up just yet he kept his eyes closed and pushed his face deeper into the pillow immediately feeling skin against his forehead. _That wasn't right. _He opened his eyes, vision still slightly blurred, he could just make out the pale neck he was barely an inch away from, only then realizing his arm was wrapped tightly around the figure.

Still in a sleep like state he tried to remember what had happened the night before that would have left him in this position.

_'It's not Jennette… but I am pretty sure I didn't call anyone or go to a bar last night…'_ he leaned closer, lips almost pressed against the neck when he saw the dark curls. "Holy shit!" John nearly flew out of the bed, _Sherlock's bed_, he now realized as his late night discovery and actions came back to him.

The back to normal_, relative normal for him at least,_ detective yawned and rolled over.

"Right. Time for a cuppa." John quietly slipped out an headed for the kitchen hoping the previous night would be forgotten.

As he busied himself with breakfast he could hear the shower coming on and was joined a few minutes later by a hastily dressed and wet haired Sherlock.

_'Maybe he wont bring it up.'_ John hoped.

"Sleep well_?"_ Sherlock forked one of John's eggs.

"Fine." He pretended his breakfast was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Hmm."

"What?"

"Two of the three experiments so far have ended up with you in my bed." Sherlock smirked.

"Frankly if the hypnotism one had I'd have filed charges."

"Really John, do you have that low of an opinion of me? I am offended. Besides, you climbed into bed with me last night, not the other way around." He continued stealing bites off John's plate as the blogger tried his best not to blush.

"Well you looked pathetic last night, I was trying to help." He shot back defensively.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes in anger at first but decided against an insult, "Clearly you woke up due to the lack of my violin playing, so you are hardly to blame for your vile mood right now."

"Ha, as if." Somehow he could no longer bring himself to be mad at the situation though. "Case today?"

Sherlock stood and analyzed the various chemicals at the end of the table. "Nope." His voice was far too enthusiast for a workaholic without a job.

"Well I should be off, groceries to buy and all that." John tried to make a quick escape from the flat but was pinned to the wall in a flash.

"Leaving so soon?" Sherlock's pale eyes saw through his ploy, "I was hoping you could help me with something." He towered over the smaller man, something he missed dearly the day before.

"I'll just pop out for a moment." '_and then stay the hell away for the rest of the day.'_

"I don't believe you." The air from the words ghosted across John's skin making him shudder. "You only made me do that experiment yesterday because you knew I didn't want to do it." Sherlock backed off and began to pace the room.

John let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, "But yesterday… that thing you did… how was that even possible?"

"Hm?" The detective stopped passing for just a moment and continued again, "Very mild transformation, hardly a big deal really."

"Mild? Lock, you shrank over a foot!" he plopped down in his chair, might as well be comfortable while waiting the inevitable.

Sherlock chuckled. "Precisely. Just a foot. If you found that shocking you really have no idea what else one can do with chemicals." He eyed his beakers fondly. "I did tell you we were starting off simple, we could move up a few notches with the experiments after all. It makes no difference to me what order we do them in."

Curiosity got the better of the doctor. "What other things can you do?" really he should have known better then to ask that.

Sherlock beamed and poured the majority of the contents of a beaker into a mug and handed it to John. "I'm really glad you asked actually. About a month ago I received a letter from the Baskerville testing facility asking me to help them with a compound they have been working on but couldn't get quite right. I've near perfected it, but still need to test it."

"How could you have perfected something without testing it? You don't even know how you've changed it exactly. And Baskerville?! Those people are nuts! I rather have nothing more to do with that place."

"I really need to test this one and you don't have anything else to do today, I just thought it would be best to get it over with and have it out of the way, or should I need to make any more changes to it I would be able to do so in a timely fashion."

"I'm not falling for the 'you give me absolutely no information before hand scam' again. You will tell me exactly what this is suppose to do to me before I take it."

Sherlock huffed in annoyance. "It's a military grade transmutation compound. It's just going to heighten your senses, agility, possibly strength too. See? Not that bad."

"Don't believe you. There's more."

"What? John really-"

"You wouldn't have classified it as 'not simple' if that's all it really did."

Sherlock scrunched his nose in defeat, "Well, it might also…" the rest of his sentence became an unrecognizable mumble "Not a big deal."

"What? You tosser you know I have no idea what you said."

A deep groan escaped his throat as he fell back into the couch opposite John, "It may or may not cause you to shift shape."

John was taken aback, "Into what exactly?"

"Well originally they believed something akin to a large predator like creature like a wolf, but I've been tinkering with it after all and now I'm really not all that sure."

"You're joking."

"I'm taking a risk here myself you know. You could get confused after taking it and attack me."

"That's… that's awful! I'm not doing this, it's too dangerous."

"John I assure you, I will make sure you are perfectly safe and back to normal as soon as I know it works."

"No I mean…" John shook his leg nervously, "I could never live with myself if I knew I hurt you, under the influence of one of your crazed experiments or not."

"Oh." Sherlock thought for a moment. "Well we could…"

* * *

John had always wondered what the final straw would be. On his first night knowing his slightly deranged flatmate he had shot and killed a man for him. His first date since getting use to civilian life had been hijacked as they were kidnapped by a gang of assassins- also Sherlock's fault. He had a bomb strapped to him, constant gay remarks were made to and about him, he was drugged against his will while locked in a lab, and now this. He sat naked on the floor of a dog kennel with nothing but a sheet.

"You'll thank me later when you don't have to buy new clothes after ripping them." Sherlock handed him the mug of grey liquid and locked the cage.

"You've really gone too far on this one." He looked down worriedly at the mug. "I'm going to leave one of these days."

"But you haven't yet and you have no idea how much I appreciate you for that. You remain to be my one and only friend."

Today was not the final straw. John shook his head but smiled lightly, "I never thought I would do anything so stupid for someone." He drank it quickly and prepared for the worst.

Sherlock watched anxiously, his notebook with "John" scrawled across the front in hand. Twenty minutes passed of intense agony. "John, this is really boring."

"Well I can't help that you messed your own experiment up." He held the sheet close to his body "and it's bloody freezing."

"Well I can't let you out. It might just be a delay in reaction." A knocking at the door prompted his attention.

"Hey, don't answer that!"

Sherlock didn't listen, he opened the door and let him Mrs. Hudson carrying a pan of fresh pastries. "I just made up a batch and thought you boys would like some. Just this once though, I'm not your cook."

"I would love one, I'm sure John would too. John, you should see these, it can be a reward for when you come out."

John wanted to curl up in the sheet and die rather then see the look on Mrs. Hudson's face when she saw him sitting in the cage. "Oh my, is this a bad time? You boys, didn't think you were into this sort of thing."

"John's been very good, I think I'll let him out in an hour or so, then he can have one of your biscuits." Sherlock kissed her cheek and opened the door for her to leave.

"He doesn't mean it like that!" it was too late, she left. "Damn it Sherlock! I don't even want to know what she thinks now!"

Sherlock sighed and crouched down by the cage, biscuit in hand. "Do you feel any different at all? Eyesight? Hearing? Smell? Anything?" he had a look of disappointment.

"Sorry, nothing." He eyed the biscuit.

"I don't know what I could have possibly done wrong." Sherlock raised both hands in frustration; John watched the pastry intensely. "Well there's probably no point to this anymore." He began unlock the cage, his biscuit holding hand on against the bars.

John hobbled closer to the door.

"Hang on, this lock is tricky."

A slightly tanned hand attempted to grab the treat through the bars.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock finally got the cage open but John was too distracted to notice. "You can come out now… Do you… do you want my biscuit?" he stretched his hand out offering it not expecting John to eat it from his hand while on all fours, sheet starting to slip.

"Are there more?" John remained on the floor and looked up hopefully.

Sherlock reached for his notebook and grabbed another biscuit, offering it to John the same way. "Anything feel different now?" he looked at him quizzically.

There was no response as John started eating from Sherlock's hand again as if it were perfectly normal. "Spine feel funny." This time when the pastry was gone John began licking Sherlock's hand.

"Your spine?" Sherlock went to remove the sheet but as he touched John the smaller man doubled over in pain and clutched his head with both hands. "Shh, calm down, you're going to be ok" Sherlock dropped to his knees and tried reassuring him. Still in pain John tried to crawl onto Sherlock's lap. "John no, get off! I'll give you another pastry." He tried shoving him off earning him a bite on the hand. "Damn it John!" Sherlock stood up quickly, leaving John to fall back to the floor and hide under his sheet.

The detective went to the sink to wash off the blood. '_these marks… '_ There was no doubt, the teeth marks that puncture his hand were not human. He sprinted back to the sheet but now there was only a small lump underneath.

"John? Can you hear me?" he clutched the edge of the sheet nervously, the lump moved. "Can you come out?" he gently lifted the sheet up, the orange tabby slinked further away under the sheet. Sherlock sighed. "I didn't mean to drop you John." He grabbed a third biscuit and held it out. Slowly the cat came closer and began eating again, this time Sherlock realized the small pastries were filled with minced meat.

"Well I've muddled up the results I can see." He stroked the tabby's head and John leaned closer to nuzzle him. Sherlock picked the cat up and sat on the couch with it. "What am I going to do with you?"

John curled up on Sherlock's lap and purred.

The first night John seemed to have no idea he was ever human and insisted on sleeping in Sherlock's bed with him. Sherlock would never admit to cuddling cat John or kissing his head.

"Three out four experiments have led to you in my bed now."

John purred.

* * *

The second day John started showing odd behavior.

This time whenever Sherlock tried to pet him, John would either bite his hand or whack at with his paw.

"You're a bad cat."

John hissed.

* * *

At 2am John quietly jumped on Sherlock bed and found his way under the covers. Sherlock woke up the next morning with the tabby sleeping on his chest.

* * *

The third day John had fleas.

Sherlock sat watching crap telly, yelling abuse at it to rid the flat of silence. John perched himself on the arm of the couch and watched as well. But when the cat could no longer hold still for a few minutes at a time to scratch or bite himself Sherlock held him down and inspected his fur.

The detective tried everything, but he couldn't force John into the bathtub. "You have fleas. Don't play dumb, I know you can understand me now. You are getting in this tub!"

John hissed and scratch Sherlock's arm.

"It's just water! This is absolutely absurd! You have no problem showering when you're human!"

He had enough, John was obviously uncomfortable and he didn't want fleas in his flat either. "This is for your own good!" Sherlock forced him into a small carrier and took a cab to Molly's house. '_She can deal with you.'_

Molly was very surprised to see the consulting detective on her porch, and even more surprised to hear he was taking care of his neighbor's cat.

"He has fleas and he wont let me bathe him."

"Poor little guy, we'll fix you all up." Molly smiled through carrier at the hissing cat.

Half an hour later Molly emerged from the bathroom with John soaking wet and began to dry him off. Sherlock was not at all jealous, he wasn't.

* * *

The third morning John woke up sprawled across the foot of Sherlock's bed in the nude and confused as hell.

* * *

A/N: This chapter was for Sm3llyCheese, who asked about cat!John :]

I also got cage requests and painful transformation requests… which makes me wonder about my readers…. But I love it!

There will be a follow up to this the chapter after the next. Pre-warning… this story is about to get pretty gay. Awwwhhhhhh yeah.


	7. Placebo

Chapter 7

The Placebo Effect

Sherlock gave John a day to recover from their last experiment. At first John didn't believe a word of what happened but as the day progressed it all came back to him. The worst part came when the two were eating dinner at Angelo's together and Sherlock stood to use the restroom. For a brief moment without thinking Sherlock placed his hand on John's head and rubbed it. John leaned into it and made a noise entirely too much like purring before jolting away with a completely flushed face.

The next day John once again decided he was done with experiments.

* * *

"I don't want to have to beg you every time I ask you to do what you already promised."

"Three days Sherlock! I was a cat for three bloody days!"

"Well clearly I made some errors when I was reworking the formula. You weren't even supposed to turn into a cat."

"These experiments are utterly ridiculous! Not to mention Mrs. Hudson thinks we're doing some weird BDSM stuff with a cage now!"

"What's wrong with BDSM?" Sherlock sipped his tea calmly listening to his ranting flatmate.

"What's wrong? ARGH! Do you even know what people ask me about on my blog? The whole city seems to think we're a couple you know."

"And?"

"I'm not gay! I've even flirted with women who asked me if I'm your boyfriend. How do you think that makes me feel? Not to mention the looks I've been getting from men the past few months."

Sherlock gave a non-committal shrug. "Well, we could just go back to the simple experiments."

"I can't believe you. You're not even listening to me are you?" John slouched back in his chair.

"Found a job yet?" Sherlock knew John hated asking for money and their little arrangement was the only thing that allowed him to keep his financial dignity even if it came at the cost of the rest of his dignity.

"Not yet…"

"This next experiment is my simplest." The detective stated between sips.

John bit his lip, "Just don't go turning me into a hedgehog or some such rubbish."

Sherlock took an unlabeled container of pills and dropped one in John's tea.

"What was that?"

"New experiment. Drink."

"What does it-"

"Blind study."

John had nerves of steel. That or he was an idiot. Sherlock smiled sheepishly as John drank the cup and swallowed the small pill.

"Do I want to know what I just took?"

"mmm, could make life easier for you. Anyway, we have a case today, so hurry up and finish breakfast."

"How many times do I have to bring up that you promised this wouldn't leave the flat?"

"Wont affect you, I guarantee it."

* * *

John nervously observed Sherlock deduce the crime scene. He had no idea what was going to happen to him at any given moment. Every sound and movement sent him into a panic.

"John? Are you alright? You haven't told me I'm brilliant even once today."

"Fine. Just fine. Listen-" John pulled Sherlock aside, "Could you just, you know, tell me what's going to happen at least?"

"Why? On edge? It's really nothing to be concerned with." Sherlock turned to deduce more about the scene.

John grabbed his arm and turned him back around, "Please? I'm sort of freaking out."

"You'll be fine. See that girl over there who works forensics? You should ask her on a date."

The doctor looked "Um, ok? Any reason why?"

"Because you haven't gone on a date in weeks, plus I'm the reason your last one didn't pan out. It will be fun. Just ask her. When you come back I'll tell you what was in your tea."

Something didn't sit right with John. '_Sherlock telling me to ask a girl out? Nope, not normal at all. This has to do with the experiment, but what the hell, I can date if I want to.'_ He built up his courage and marched off for triumph. Sherlock's smile should have alerted him that something was definitely askew.

A moment later John returned grinning.

"Went well then?"

"Yup, we're going for Chinese tonight."

"Ah, good."

John's grin rapidly faded, "What was in the tea?"

"Physiological study."

John blinked. "That could mean a lot of things. What exactly will it do to me?"

Sherlock looked down at his watch, "Already in affect by now."

"I don't feel any different."

"Should be subtle at first."

"What should be subtle?" John was getting increasingly frustrated.

"You're gay now."

John was completely speechless as Sherlock walked off to report his findings on the case to Lestrade.

* * *

The cab ride back to the flat was filled with words that went unsaid.

'I can't just complain and call him a git this time, he'll think I'm insulting gays and I'm not even sure if he is gay or not. I also can't say 'I'm not gay' because technically according to him I might be now. Shit. No, I can't be gay, that's just not possible. What am I thinking?! He turned me into a bloody cat for three days of course he could find a way to make me gay. But I don't even like men! Or I didn't? I'm not even thinking about men or sex or any of that. Not that gay people necessarily think about having sex with men all the time. Fuck I'm so confused.'

"You're uncharacteristically quiet today John." The deep baritone voice snapped him from his thoughts.

"Oh. Just, uh, thinking."

"About men?"

"What?! No! No… not, sort of, but no."

"Sort of?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Not like that, I'm not gay-"

"You are gay,"

That completely shut John up for a bit. "But I'm going on a date tonight with a woman."

"Do you find her attractive?"

"I don't know, she's alright. That's not the point."

"Are you planning on having sex with her?"

"Sherlock! No I'm not planning on- oh wipe that smile off your face, I meant I wouldn't just do that on a first date." John huffed and crossed his arms.

"Alright then, so what is it about her that made you ask her out then?"

"What are you talking about? You told me to!"

"So that was the only reason then?"

"Of course it was." John realized the implications of what he just said. "Not that-"

"So you otherwise had no reason to ask her out or any interest in her?"

"Well no, but-"

"And you have been sitting in this cab quietly and instead of thinking of your date tonight with a woman you have been thinking of men _'sort of'_." He mimicked John's words.

John could feel his face heating up.

"This is also the first experiment you haven't protested."

"And the second that will have me sleeping in my own bed." John shot back.

Sherlock's smile only widened. "Awfully forward thinking there. Or when you said _'sort of'_ were you referring to…"

"That's enough!" John gritted his teeth and turned even redder.

* * *

John waited patiently for his date to arrive, she was a few minutes late and his eyes began to wonder across the restaurant.

'This is ridiculous, I am NOT attracted to men. That guy over there isn't attractive to me at all. 'he almost didn't see the waiter approach.

"Expecting one more?"

John recognized the waiter, Sherlock and he frequented this place, "Yup, my date is a tad late."

"Ah, no problem, I'll come back when Mr. Holmes gets here."

"I'm not straight. Gay! I'm not gay!" This was worse then the cat experiment.

"Um- right? Ok? I'll come back in a bit then."

John wanted to die. Or better yet, kill Sherlock. These thoughts filled his mind when his date arrived.

"Sorry about that, traffic was a nightmare."

"No worries." John looked his date up and down, she wasn't ugly or anything of the sort but he wasn't exactly attracted to her he now found. "Uh, you look lovely."

"Thank you! You're such a charmer! It's funny, I always use to assume you and your detective friend were an item."

* * *

That night John tried to sneak into the flat unnoticed.

"Ah John, you're back! How was the date?" Sherlock sat up on the couch, clearly just been in his mind palace.

"I'm sure you could deduce it, you always do."

"And you always get mad? Oh well, let's see. You enjoyed the food, nothing went horribly wrong, but…"

"Well?"

"You didn't enjoy it?" Sherlock was perplexed. John always enjoyed his dates so long as nothing went wrong. "So something did go wrong." He tried to think of what it could have been. "An ex showed up?"

"Wrong."

"Wrong?" Sherlock stared at him incredulously.

"She was just…"

"Boring?"

"Not interesting yea."

"Or attractive."

"That too."

"Even though this morning at the crime scene you thought she was enough to ask her out,"

"She was ok, but you're the one that told me to… oh lord not this again."

Sherlock pulled out the notebook John now despised. "So no physical attraction in the least." He made a note.

"It was just one date. One girl doesn't make me gay."

"Of course not. It was the pill that made you gay."

John turned to leave, "I'm going to bed." Half way up the steps he added "Alone!"

"And presumptions about attractive men hitting on you." Sherlock made a note.

"I- I didn't presume anything! Strike that out!"

"Debatable. But you also didn't deny me being attractive." Sherlock smiled and made another note.

* * *

The next day brought another crime scene.

"You seem awfully chipper this morning." Sherlock ducked under the crime scene tape and held it up for John.

"That's because I'm not gay. It's been 24 hours."

"Is that so?"

"Yup… of course it is… isn't it?" John clenched his teeth.

"I don't recall telling you there was a time limit on the pill."

"But all the experiments wear off."

"No John, I said they all either wear off or are reversible. This isn't the wear off kind."

John took that in. That meant he was still gay… if he was gay, which he certainly isn't. He thinks. "Well when the hell is this experiment gonna be done with?"

"When I am satisfied with how gay you are. Hello Sally!"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. Scene's inside freak." Donovan gestured them towards a door to a large building and looked John up and down.

"He's joking." John tried to laugh but found his throat was too dry.

Sherlock immediately began deducing and Lestrade strolled over to John.

"Everything ok since the other day? When two was fighten' at the morgue I mean?"

"Yea, we sorted that all out. Sorry by the way." John watched Sherlock's long coat from across the room swaying with his sudden movements.

"No worries. He's a wanker, just don't let him get the better of ya." Lestrade gave John's shoulder a firm pat.

"Er, right." John watched as Sherlock got awkwardly close to a corpse, bent over at an unusual angle.

"Still don't know how you can stand to live with him." Lestrade chuckled, "If you ever need a break give me a call and we can grab a pint."

John would later attribute his poor choice of words and misunderstanding to Sherlock pressuring him about his questionable sexuality. "Are you asking me out?"

"What? No! No, I just meant as mates!"

"John! John! You're not even listening to me deduce!" Sherlock grabbed John's arm only then noticing the awkward stance between his blogger and the D.I.

"Lestrade? Seriously?" Sherlock sighed as if expecting this, "At least it wasn't Anderson. Now come on." He pulled him away and towards the bodies.

Greg remained where he was completely confused. _'What just happened?'_

* * *

"I can't believe you would fall for Lestrade of all people." Sherlock sighed and fell onto the couch with a small 'thud.'

"I didn't fall for- and besides, what's wrong with Greg?"

The eyebrow was once again raised.

"Not that's I'm interested or ever will be! You're really difficult! He's the one that-"

"Asked you for a pint like '_friends'_ do?"

John blushed. "Fine, so I misunderstood. I've been under a lot of pressure lately."

"Well at least we can say you are inconclusively gay now."

"What? No we can not! I'm not gay."

"So you're saying all of my research and carefully formulated pill did not work?"

John was quiet for a moment, "You just can't make someone gay."

"Then you would be up for an analysis? Just to make sure of course."

* * *

Sherlock sat at the opposite end of the kitchen table from John wearing his silk purple shirt with a manila envelope and his composition book in hand.

John noticed the top two buttons of Sherlock's shirt were undone, '_There's no way someone wears a shirt like that and isn't gay. Not that it matters if he's gay or not. Pretty sure he is though…'_

"John please stop staring at my chest, it's most distracting."

"I wasn't-" John began protesting.

"I'm going to show you a series of images and you're going to rate the attractiveness of the men between 0 and 10, 0 meaning you have no attraction at all and 10 meaning you have a great attraction for their physical appearance. Are you ready?"

John sighed loudly and ran his hand through his hair, "As ready as I'll ever be I suppose."

"Ok, let's begin." Sherlock held up the first image, it depicted a mostly nude and muscular man.

"Zero."

Sherlock made a note and showed the following similar image.

"Zero."

"hmm" he made another note and showed the third image.

John gritted his teeth, "Zero."

"John, this is not the time to play games, are you even taking this seriously?"

"Of course I am. It's not my fault you chose unattractive men for this." '_Not that I would find them attractive anyway.'_ He told himself.

Sherlock blinked, "I see…" He put the images into a folder and brought out a second folder. "Let's try something different then." He pulled out the first image and showed it to John.

It took John a moment to asses the image, he noticed the body type was much different from the previous images. "Well… he's alright I guess… Five."

Anyone else would have missed the small smirk Sherlock gave as he wrote down another note. Then pulled the second image.

"Is that… That's David Tennant." John huffed in annoyance.

"And?"

John crossed his arms and looked away, his mumble barely audible. "Ten"

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow and made his note, "Lucky Mr. Tennant."

"Shut up."

They continued until Sherlock was satisfied with his data. "It seems I just had to find your '_type'_."

"Type?"

"Oh don't play dumb, you rated the second group of images rather highly considering."

"Considering what?"

"That you still claim to not be gay after I have explicitly explained you are."

John thought for a moment, "I'm not gay though."

Sherlock massaged his temples, "Jaaaawn. You are really going to sit there and say David Tennant is a 'I would fuck him number Ten.' And still claim to be straight?"

"Well… fine. I could be bisexual."

Sherlock's head shot up. "Really? You… you admit you're attracted to men then?"

"Yes, fine, I'll admit I found some of those blokes attractive. Are you satisfied now? I'm not wanking off to prove your point you know."

Sherlock beamed, "Very satisfied."

"Good, now give me the damn cure."

"John, you should know as a medical professional there is 'no cure' for being gay." the deep baritone voice had John glad he could chalk his thoughts up to the pill in the end.

"Very funny, you know what I mean, just hand it over."

Sherlock sighed what was obviously a fake sigh, "Very well, but you were just complaining yesterday that everyone thinks you're gay anyway and that it's awkward when men check you out. This could be an improvement in your life after all." He pulled out a pill container and handed it over.

John's eyes widened, "What's going on here? That's the same pill container from before, I recognize the scratch on the side."

"Oh alright, you caught me." Sherlock winked.

_'He winked? He actually just winked!'_ "What are you talking about?" John's voice was full of dread.

"It was a placebo."

Four words shattered John Watson's sexual identity.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for reading! Please R&R

I'm still doing my other story btw, I just seem to write this one a million times faster.

Preview: Next chapter contains a revenge seeking John, with backfiring consequences. Read the following in the voice of George Tekkai: '_Oh My!' _


	8. Diluted

Chapter 8

Diluted

_'Was it all in my head? Did he somehow trick me into thinking I liked men? Ok, David Tennant really is hot, but everyone thinks that, he hardly counts! Oh god what am I thinking? Fuck. I might be gay.'_ John unceremoniously plopped his head down on the kitchen table next to his empty plate. He didn't want to face Sherlock when he woke up that morning. '_This is all his fault. I never would have questioned my sexuality if it wasn't for him'_ He could hear the tell tale sounds of his flatmate waking up, '_I need a break from these experiments.'_

John glanced around the room for a good excuse why he should be experiment free today. Nothing came to mind '_unless… if he couldn't do one…'_

It wasn't the nicest thing to do, but John was sick and tired of being the butt of Sherlock's sick sense of humor, even if by technicality John had allowed it. He already knew the effects of the grey liquid still sitting on the counter, he had been proven safe and would wear off in a few days. _'A few days of blissful non experimentation.'_ Which is why Sherlock entered the kitchen to find a cup of tea already brewed for him.

"For me?"

"Of course."

"You're not still mad then?"

"It's really my own fault that I said what I said yesterday. And… well."

"Well?" Sherlock hoped for an unknown reason that he knew what John was about to confess to.

"I can't really blame you for who I find attractive."

"Glad you're coming around." Sherlock drank his tea in one long gulp. "Now then, for today I was hoping to-"

John cut him off by putting a finger up. "Long night last night, I'm going to kip for half an hour, wake me up then and you can do whatever you like to me." He smiled knowingly.

"You really are getting use to this. Alright, half an hour and I'll come get you."

* * *

John had a fantastic nap. There were no drugs, no hypnotism, and nothing homosexual happened. Although if Tennant had made an appearance John likely wouldn't have minded. It was all fine.

Until Sherlock woke him up.

"John, the experiment for today is off, Lestrade just texted that there's been a triple homicide, oh this will be so much fun!"

John clutched at his pillow without opening his eyes. "I said half an hour." Knowing that was the approximate time it should take for Sherlock to be cat and leave him alone.

"And I've accidentally been in my mind palace for fifty minutes. Come on, the games afoot!"

_'50 minutes? That's not right… that's not right at all.'_ John opened his eyes and was glad he was already in bed or he likely would have fallen over.

Looming over him clad in his black coat ready to leave for the crime scene was Sherlock, complete with a pair of soft black cat ears sticking out of his hair. "John? You've gone pale…"

"Uh…" There was nothing he could possibly say.

"You're in shock," he turned his head slightly- which only made him more cat like "When you woke up the first thing you did was look at me and panic." His eyes narrowed and he turned to look for a mirror.

"Wait! Before you do! I am… so sorry… I didn't think that…"

Sherlock's eyes widened, "You did something to me?" he sounded more hurt then anything and quickly exited the room to go to the bathroom downstairs for the large mirror.

John jumped out of bed and ran after him, finding him staring into the large mirror with an unreadable expression. "I don't even know how…"

"John… you… you did this to me?!" He pointed at the black cat ears.

"I'm really sorry! I wasn't thinking! I just thought you would be a cat or something, I'm sorry! I just really needed a break from the experiments! And… oh my god Lock, please forgive me." It was then that John saw the long black tail coming out from under Sherlock coat and gasped.

"What?! What is it?" his cat ear drooped down.

"Um… uh… you have a…" John pointed to the new limb.

Sherlock sat on the floor and lowered his head. "Why would you do this to me?"

"To be fair you've sort of been putting me through hell lately."

"I'm a cat…"

"It must have been diluted by the tea…" John realized. "Stupid of me." He crouched down to where Sherlock sat. "I'm a bloody tosser and I deserve whatever abuse you give."

"It will go away… but the homicide John! It can't wait a few days." Sherlock moaned.

"I know… I'm sorry." John went to pat Sherlock's back with a surprising result.

Sherlock's back arched and before he knew it he was rubbing himself all over John. "Jaaaawn! Jawn oh please scratch my back! Pleeeeaaase!" His coat was off in an instant. "I'll forgive you if you just scratch me."

John fell over with a lap full of Sherlock. "Christ. You really are a cat. Come on then, go over to the damn couch and I'll do it properly."

"Oh Jawn you're the best! You're absolutely brilliant in every way!" Sherlock sprawled himself across the couch in the blink of an eye.

"This is one of the weirdest things I've ever done." At first John thought it was weird to scratch and pet his flatmate but after a few minutes it became strangely fun and he could swear the low baritone rumble vibrating the couch was Sherlock purring.

He hesitantly hovered one hand over Sherlock's head before dropping it to pet his dark hair, the detective pushed into the pet, soft cat ears in John's hand. "I hate how good this feels."

John smiled, "but not enough to stop?"

"Oh God no."

"Not that I should be, but am I forgiven?"

"Only if you keep doing this."

"Well someone's become an affection whore." John gave the long black tail a gentle tug.

Sherlock's phone started chiming from his coat pocket left in the other room. "I forgot about the case! I said I'd be there… oh that can't be right, an hour and a half ago? There's no conceivable way I let you pet me for that long…" he quickly sat up looking at a clock.

"Mm, you really did actually."

"Shit." Sherlock left to answer the phone leaving John to lay back on the couch.

"… Fuck," John hadn't realized until then that he was sporting a sizable erection. '_no nononono. This couldn't be from… no! That's just no. Fuck.'_ John sat back up awkwardly trying to readjust.

Sherlock strolled back in coat on with his tail hidden. "Well we'll have to come back to this later."

"You can't possibly mean… Lock you have ears!"

"It's a triple homicide John! I can't just pass that up. Besides, look, you can't even see the tail!"

"Ears Sherlock!"

Sherlock huffed. "Triple homicide… and they're less noticeable then your erection." He stormed off leaving John beet red.

"I never thought you had a thing for cats John!" he called from his room.

John was still trying to think of a reasonable explanation '_any explanation!' _when Sherlock came back wearing his loathed deerstalker hat. "You hate that hat." Was all he could manage.

"I really do… but it's the only thing I have that can hide them…" Sherlock looked down in defeat. "Triple homicide John…"

"Oh fine, we can go if you're really willing to wear that."

* * *

"You're uh, a bit close."

Sherlock sat in the cab pressed up against John with his head leaning against the shorter man's shoulder. "I can't seem to help it. Despite having minimal physical cat features I'm displaying cat like behavioral patterns."

"Well don't do it at the crime scene."

"My inhibitions are not _that_ low."

"They seemed pretty low them when you begged me to scratch you."

"Which you did without a shred of refusal." Sherlock purred into the crook of John's neck. His voice deepened into its deep baritone, "And then you got an erect-"

"Here! We're here!" John nearly jumped out of the cab and paid the cabbie.

* * *

Everyone who worked for the Yard seemed to be aware of Sherlock's aversion to his deerstalker cap, earning him a multitude of gawking looks and whispers.

"Freak in his signature hat eh? Must be hiding something, havin a bad hair day?" Sally teased as the pair passed her.

It was almost impossible to deduce that the dead man's gardener had murdered him due to the affair he was having with both his wife and the wife's stepdaughter due to the atrocious amount of whispering taking place in the crime scene.

"I thought he hated that hat with a passion." Lestrade attempted to break the ice with John after their last chat hadn't ended so well.

"He really does." John chuckled back.

"Lost a bet?"

"Trust me, you'd be glad he's wearing that hat today."

A tuxedo cat wondered in from one of the interior rooms, nose held in in the air intent on finding the source of what she was smelling. Her attention fell of Sherlock, who's leg she would be dedicated to smothering. Sherlock tried shaking the pesky animal away at first but the cat wouldn't give in.

"John! John help me!"

"Somebody get this damn cat out of here. Who the hell cleared this room anyway?" Lestrade grabbed the feline and shoved it in Donovan's arms. "Go take that thing somewhere else."

John started snickering behind Sherlock's back until the detective absent minded wondered out and down the hall. "Lock? Where are you going?" He followed him until they reached the green house where Sherlock became fixated on a small plant.

"This plant. I need this plant." His face was practically pressed against it.

"You're a big silly cat you know that? That's catnip."

"Jawn-" Sherlock dipped his face seductively and got to close for comfort to his flatmate "Please get me that plant?"

John took a step back "It's just catnip, it's nothing special." Those big pale eyes were pleading with him, "Er, of course. Whatever you like."

"You're the best John." He dipped his neck to rub his head against John's chest. "You're brilliant." John would feel rather then hear him purring now.

"Where the hell have you two gone off too? There any evidence in here?" Lestrade called from the doorway before he saw the strange display of Sherlock's affection inside. "Bloody hell are you two rubbin off on each other at a crime scene?"

"No, Sherlock's just being… Sherlock." He placed both hand's on the overly affectionate man's hat to make sure it didn't fall off, Sherlock didn't stop in his act of head rubbing.

"Well get him to cut it out." Lestrade came from behind the taller man and grabbed him by the coat, "Come one, back to the scene." '_That does it, these two are defiantly shagging behind everyone's back.'_

Sherlock turned and pressed himself firmly against Lestrade, "Rub my back, please please please rub my back."

"The hell?!"

John grabbed the detective and pulled him away, "I'm so sorry, he's uh, not been feeling to well actually and well, he's a tad out of it-"

Sherlock's hat fell off as he left Lestrade and went back to rubbing against John without a care in the world. "Never mind, John's jumper is much softer and more cuddly and he smells like jam."

Lestrade nearly jumped out of his skin, "He's got- he's got bloody cat ears!"

"Oh who cares? I stopped minding and John loves them." Sherlock nipped at the beige sweater.

"That's it, I'm taking you home and hoping to god that this is because you were sniffing that nip."

Sherlock stubbed rubbing himself and looked at John with his wide eyes, "You're still getting me a plant thought right? You said-"

"Yes, alright, just get up, you're freaking Greg out."

"He's a cat…." Greg said with a shaky voice while pointing to the offending silken cat ears.

"John drugged me against my will." Sherlock stated, "So you can just blame him. John, take me home, I want you to pet me again."

John forced the deerstalker back on Sherlock's head "I'll explain later, I should really get him home now."

* * *

John bought Sherlock several catnip filled cat toys as a joke, Sherlock failed to see he was being made fun of and thoroughly enjoyed them. The blogger's day turned out better then expected, minus a the slight embarrassment he endured in front of Lestrade once again.

'_No way he thinks we're not gay now.'_ John sat back in his chair with a cup of tea, bemused beyond belief when his flatmate came back inside after only a few minutes of leaving the flat carrying a large cardboard box. "What's in that?"

"In it?" The detective plopped the box on the floor and promptly crawled inside. "Can you believe Mrs. Hudson didn't want this perfectly good box anymore?"

John sighed, he could get use to cat Sherlock.

* * *

A/N: Much to John's enjoyment, Cat Sherlock will be continued next chapter.


	9. Inhibitions

Chapter 9

Inhibitions

John rolled over in bed to flip the light switch of his lamp on, the clock next to it read '8:00 am'. "Get out of my bed."

Sherlock lay horizontally across the foot of John's bed in his blue bathrobe with his tail sticking out. " 'M comfy."

"I don't care, I never gave you permissions to crawl into my bed."

"You did this to me." He sleepily pointed to the ears on his head.

"You said you forgave me."

"I said I _would_ forgive you _if_ you keep rubbing me."

"I scratched you for hours yesterday!" John scoffed.

"But Jaaaawn." Sherlock crawled over to where John was sitting up and laid on his lap. "Please?"

Looking down at the silken ears John found it hard to resist, they were even softer then they looked. Sherlock craved the familiar touch of the firm ex army hands on him. The baritone purr shot through John's spine.

"I have a new experiment for you today." Sherlock's voice was muffled by John's lap.

"New one? But Lock… you're all… catty."

"Problem?"

"What if you rub against me or something and muddle it all up?"

"I'll just have to divorce myself of my desire of touch. Simple enough."

"Simple enough? And you are a big cuddle slut cat, there is no way you could stop."

"Can too." Sherlock left the warmth of John's lap and made to leave when his tail was pulled causing him to fall onto the bed with a light 'thud.' John released the tail only to jump on his back and start a full out scratching war on the taller man's neck and back. Sherlock didn't want to admit how smitten he was with the sensation, fighting for freedom he only managed to flip himself onto his back, John now straddling his waist.

"No, bad cat, stay still." John grinned as he tried tickling the detective's sides.

"No! Stop! Stop!" Sherlock was rolling with high pitched giggles still trying to get away when he uncontrollably bucked his hips up raising John's body up and making him slip forward.

A not so subtle moan escaped John's mouth as his half firm cock came in contact with Sherlock. John immediately pulled back and tried to disengage himself. "Well we should start the day then eh? I'll just go make some food…" he hurried out before the detective could stop him.

* * *

Sherlock stood motionless under the hot spray of the shower for a while, letting the beads of warmth hit him. '_Was I too cruel with my last experiment on John? I thought it would help him realize that it was ok if he thought like that.'_

A squeezed a shampoo into his hand and rubbed it through his curling hair, it was strange feeling the oversized cat ears on top. He knew they would be gone soon, allowing him to be hat free in public again and less likely to attack rub someone but he found he was already missing them. _'John likes them, even if he pretends he doesn't.'_ He thought back to the awkward events that had just taken place. '_He doesn't even stop me from rubbing on him and his physical reaction is indication enough, why did he just leave?'_ Sherlock frowned.

The detective knew he only had a few hours left before he no longer had his ears and tail and he was planning to make the most of it. John lowered his newspaper slightly to catch his flatmate stealing bites of his breakfast like he often did. Sherlock's ears tweaked at the sound of the paper shuffling.

_'There's no way on earth I can get through today with him still looking like that.'_ "I have an interview today, just about to leave actually."

Sherlock's ears flattened against his curls, "Today? But… there's experiments to do and-"

"I have to do it today, I still really need a job after all."

_'I don't know why this job isn't enough.'_ "What about tea? I'll make you some-" He stood to grab the kettle.

"Already finished mine. I really ought to go though, I'll be back in the afternoon." John put down the paper and made for the door, another minute in Sherlock's presence would surely do him in.

'_Quick, do something cute and cat like.'_ "Jaawn, rub me first?" he purred.

"No Sherlock! I have things to do. You'll be back to normal soon enough anyway." John slammed the door and left, leaving Sherlock alone and feeling rejected.

_'Normal boring Sherlock who doesn't get any of John's attention.'_ "John hates me," he finally concluded to the empty flat.

* * *

John stayed out as long as possible that day. It was bad enough he found Sherlock strangely alluring on an average day with his quick graceful movements and they way he could perfectly make his coat float around him extending his thin waist and height, but for some perverse reason behind John's imagining those cat ears and tail sent him over the edge. The matched his cat like movements and behavior far too perfectly. _'and that damn git rubs all over me, what the hell am I suppose to do? He's only doing it because he doesn't know any better after being drugged. It's not the real Sherlock doing this.'_

Originally John had planned on tiptoeing inside the flat and avoiding his flatmate at all costs, but as soon as he stepped inside he saw the couch had been shredded to pieces with strings littering the carpet.

"Don't worry deary, the old thing needed to be reupholstered anyway." Mrs. Hudson sat in John's chair with a teacup.

"What on earth-"

"He's tired himself out I'm afraid, I thought it best I stayed and made sure he was alright for a bit." She gestured her teacup over to where Sherlock lay on a cluster of pillows piled on the floor with a mostly empty saucer of milk next to him. John noticed the tail and ears were still very much intact as well.

"Uh, you see…" his voice trailed off.

"Oh no worry, I know what he's like. It's not the first time he's gone and taken his own experiments." She stood to leave.

John recalled Mycroft saying something similar a few days prior. He kneeled by the pillow gather and softly pet the messy head of curls right between the cat ears. "What am I going to do with you?"

Sherlock subconsciously purred in his sleep, John couldn't stand it anymore, he pressed a chaste kiss against the sleeping detective's forehead.

When John had left that morning Sherlock did the only thing he thought would win over his blogger, he re drugged himself. It was worth wearing an ugly hat if John paid more attention to him.

* * *

A/N: So I have this weird theme going where most of the chapters start in the morning, usually with breakfast. Then I have this funny counter on how many experiments leave them sleeping in the same bed- that was actually not intentional until the fourth experiment when I realized what I kept doing it.


	10. Intoxicated

Chapter 10

Intoxicated

"We need milk" Sherlock woke on his mountain of pillows to find John half awake on the sofa looking in his general direction, _'but certainly not watching me because why would he do that?'_

"I just bought some the other day." His voice was distant with drowsiness.

"And then I drank it, so we need more."

John looked at his flatmate incredulously. "You drank a gallon of milk in two days?"

Sherlock's ears lowered, "You're always complaining I don't eat or drink enough…"

John sighed, "Fair enough I suppose." He licked his lips, "I thought those would have gone away by now."

"The ears and tail? Well you're the one that dosed me, obviously you gave me more then you thought." He rolled his eyes not willing to admit he had taken the drug again secretly.

"You don't think… I mean since there was also tea…" John looked away nervously.

"What are you getting at?"

"Just well… you don't think that it's permanent do you?" his voice was nervous and quiet.

Sherlock's eyes darted about, "What if it was? Would you prefer that?"

"Prefer it? What are you talking about? You can't even go out without a hat and coat on, why would you want that?"

Sherlock looked away sheepishly. "I thought… never mind."

"Why the hell did you rip the couch apart?"

Sherlock admired his work for a moment, "The sofa had it coming. Besides, I really couldn't help it." it was true, by taking drinking the chemical compound again before the last effects wore off he overloaded his system for a few hours and become overly hyperactive before crashing. '_Not that John needs to know that.'_

"Well stop being a bad cat."

The detective lowered his shoulders. "I'm not a bad cat… I'm not even a cat!"

"Course not." John smirked, "It's getting late, would you like some dinner?"

"Not hungry. I have an experiment that I would like to try though…"

"It's already night, can't it wait till tomorrow?"

"It's really better to test it at night actually, besides, I haven't done an experiment yesterday or today, I'm falling behind on my plans."

"Well I refuse to do it unless you have a half decent meal in you and I'm going out for a drink with Greg first anyway."

"Why will you stop at nothing to coddle me?" Sherlock scuffed and stood from his makeshift bed. He could see the determined look in John's eyes though, "Do we have any fish?"

John smiled at the very '_cat like' _thing to say. "We do actually. I'm frying this up for you, then I'm off."

Sherlock only frowned, "Off to enjoy your date with Lestrade…"

"Trust me, it's not a date. God. I think I scared the life out of him when I asked if it was the other day. He assured me he's not interested in me that way through text today. 'Sides, he's not even gay."

"Hmm, he said that?"

"Hm? Well I just mean he's going through a divorce with his wife and all, a woman. Obviously he's not-"

"Doesn't mean he can't be bisexual." Sherlock eyed the frying fish with earnest.

"Uh… Well I guess that's true. Never really thought about it, not that it matters. Why are we talking about this?"

"No reason. Just don't get too drunk around him, he could dirty your good name." He winked.

"As if, and I'm not interested in him." John flipped the fish onto a fresh plate for his flatmate. "There you go."

"Why not? According to the images I had you rate during the placebo test-"

"Sher- lock. I'm not even discussing this with you. Eat your damn fish and can it. I'll be back in an hour or so."

Before John walked out Sherlock stopped him, "Be safe. I'll be waiting."

John's eyes softened, '_That mad git,_ _thinking I could like someone like Greg, why can't e just figure it out?_' "Be a good cat while I'm gone."

"Shut up." He shot back between bites of his fish.

* * *

John stumbled back up the steps of 221b with Lestrade supporting him. "At least now I know you're a light weight for next time."

" 'M not a… light… light…" John could barely slur the words out.

Sherlock had been playing the violin until he heard the muffled voices outside the door and set the instrument down as the door began to open. "John Hamish Watson you are far later then you said you would be, you told me you would only be an hour and it's been…" he wasn't expecting his flatmate to be so incapacitated and dragged around by a very buzzed DI.

John took one look inside the flat and found he was able to regain his footing if only momentarily. "Kitty!"

"Oh god, he still has the ears." Lestrade shook his head. "Well he's your problem now mate."

"Oh kitty I know 'M late. 'M sorry." He stumbled weakly to the couch leaving the detective mere seconds to move his violin least it be crushed. John immediately squished his face into Sherlock's neck. "Kitty's been waiting for me all alone Greg, told you I 'ad to come back."

"What on earth did you do to him Lestrade?" He tried to untangle himself from John's grip.

"Well someone should'a warned me he's got no alcohol tolerance. He's been talkin' bout' you all night by the way. And he never did explain why you got those." He made a hand gesture referring to Sherlock's cat ears.

" 'M sorry kitty. Was mad bout you being bad cat. But you's not bad cat, you's very good kitty." John tried stroking the black silken ears much to Sherlock's annoyance.

"Blimey… I though the couch was just drunk talk. You didn't…. I mean, no heh, what am I saying? Of course you didn't…"

Sherlock let out a sigh, "Yes Lestrade, I tore up the couch."

"Forgive you kitty." John was already half asleep on Sherlock.

"Right, I'm going to go home and pretend I didn't see or hear any of this, but one of you better explain what's going on with your head soon." '_damn cuddly drunk.'_

Sherlock waited to hear Lestrade's foot steps at the bottom of the stairs before picking his very intoxicated blogger up and putting him in bed.

" Is not sorry." John could hardly keep his eyes open as he was being tucked into his flatmat's bed once again.

"You're not sorry for coming home late and drunk?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Not that." John weakly grabbed the tail bobbing up and down. "For this. You's cute kitty."

The detective smiled faintly. "You're drunk and don't know what you're saying." He turned to leave but was stopped by a tug on his tail.

" 'M drunk but I mean it. Is cute. Now come bed. Wants me' kitty."

Sherlock gave in and nestled next to his flatmate on the bed facing him, "You're just going to yell at me for this in the morning and claim you've forgotten tonight."

John giggled drunkenly, "You could take advantage of me then. I wont remember."

"I would want you to want it, and I would definitely want you to remember."

"That's why you're good kitty." John nestled closer to the thin lanky frame and pressed a kiss against Sherlock's collarbone. "Always be my kitty?"

"Of course John." He pecked the sandy graying hair below his face.

* * *

A/N: So people wanted more CatLock and frankly I didn't want to see the end of him either. So that could likely stay around for a while.

I really love experiment suggestions! Please R&R!


	11. Unnecessary

Chapter 11

Unnecessary

Sherlock woke to a muffled voice pressed against his chest.

"Why do I keep ending up in bed with you?" The voice wasn't necessarily displeased.

"Because someone didn't want to go to sleep without their '_kitty'_ last night."

"Oh god no, please don't tell me I called you that last night." John tore himself away from his flatmate and sat up to one of the worst migraines in his life. "Ah great, hangover."

"I'll get you some aspirin, and yes, you called me that repeatedly." At John's groan he added, "And in front of Greg."

"I'm never drinking again." He mumbled as he slid his hand through his ruffled hair.

Sherlock smirked, "That's what you said two months ago when you woke up with some strange woman in your bed." He tossed a bottle of aspirin on the bed and returned a moment later with a glass of water, slipping back under the sheets.

"Oh god, that was awful, she wouldn't leave either." John chuckled at the memory.

"She did when she attempted to make your breakfast and opened the fridge." Sherlock mused.

"Ha! The one and only time I was glad there was a head in there."

"Oh I'm sure there were other times." Sherlock leaned his head against John's chest as John swallowed two aspirins with a large gulp of water.

"Nope. I can guarantee that was the only time." He didn't realize he started subconsciously petting the black mess of curls resting on him until then. _'Oh god, what am I doing? I should really stop. He is letting me… but that's because he probably isn't thinking straight since the drug._' John drew his hand back but the detective's head moved close towards it.

"Don't stop." The baritone voice seemed almost lustful.

"No… I'm sorry Lock but I have to stop this." John disentangled himself from the bed and sheets, Sherlock looked up at him confused. "You aren't in your right mind, it's the only explanation."

Sherlock's cat ears flattened against his hair, "What are you talking about?"

"I shouldn't have given in, I'm sorry. You're going to be _'regular Sherlock'_ soon and regret acting this way. I just… I'm sorry." John left the room.

"John! Wait-" Sherlock stumbled to get up from the bed and knocked table lamp with his tail, he still had no idea how to control it, not that it would matter for long. "It's not because I'm-"

"What the hell is this?" John stood in the kitchen stairing at the various science eqquipemtn on the counter and slowly held up a large beaker of grey liquid.

"Don't be silly, that's the same chemical compound that-"

"I know what it is!" He snapped, "Why is there more of it? I know how much there was left and this is significantly more. Why s there… you didn't." John stared at his flatemate incredulously. "Sherlock, why?"

"Why what? You're going to have to be more specific then that." The detective hoped John's observation skills were still sub par, but they weren't.

"You damn tosser, that's why you ripped the bloody couch up? Because you took it again? Just why? You nearly had a heart attack when you first saw those ears."

"I know…"

"Then why would you knowingly drink it again? And make more of it?"

"You… " Sherlock bit his tongue, he didn't want to go down that route. "Why does it matter? I can just wear a hat and my coat and no one will know."

"What were you about to stay? That's not even a reason, just a way to hide it. So why?" John stepped closer to Sherlock making the taller man feel cornered.

"I thought that you liked them." He stammered, "You uh… you were paying more attention to me." He quickly looked down and away.

If Sherlock had still been looking he would have noticed John's features softening as he took in what the detective had just said. "Oh Lock… I'm sorry."

"It was stupid, I know. I'll just be in m room then until it wears off." He turned to leave but was stopped by a hand on wrist.

"It was stupid. But it's alright. You really just want attention don't you?" Sherlock didn't like the pitying look in John's eyes and tried to pull away. "I do… like them that is. The ears and tail. They fit you in a strange way."

Sherlock's pull away from John went slack and stood their not sure what he was waiting for.

"But that doesn't mean you should be taking some drug. You don't need those to get my attention."

"Maybe. But you wouldn't rub my back otherwise." Sherlock mused.

"How would you know? You've never asked before." They shared a moment of appreciative silence until John pulled the detective back into the kitchen, sat him down, and began his morning ritual of making food he would try to force Sherlock to eat. "Something's been bothering me."

"What's that?" Sherlock idly played with his fork, he didn't actually want to eat, but it meant John was paying attention to him.

"The hypnotism experiment…"

Sherlock scoffed, "Inconclusive evidence, you did not overcome the command like I had anticipated and by the following day the affects had worn off."

"So why no follow up experiment?"

Sherlock shrugged, "You seemed rather irate with me, not to mention the following day was when you swore off all experiments- the second time."

"Oh." John was genuinely surprised his flatmate didn't try it again.

"But you said that was the 'last command you tried.' "

"That's right."

"So… I mean, what else did you try?"

* * *

A/N: I think this was the last of the CatLock chapters. Today (August 17) is black cat appreciation day! Just wanted to let you guys know. Also, I am starting school again on Monday, so chapters will be coming out slower then they have been. Thank you everyone that has read this, especially those that have reviewed it!

As always, I love suggestions.


	12. compliancy

Chapter 12

Compliancy

"I really don't like the idea of you messing with my mind, I'm not exactly the poster boy for mental health to begin with."

"Relax, you didn't seem that upset when I tried hypnotism the first time."

"That's before I knew you could make me a mute." John narrowed his eyes in anger.

"You could have talked any time you wanted to, you clearly didn't try hard enough." Sherlock brought his hands up to his classic thinking pose. "I've been doing some research on the subject lately. It seems there is a debate whether a person can be hypnotized to do something against their will or not. Only one study has suggested that it may be possible. John- look at me, this is an important study. What if someone claims they were hypnotized to murder someone? We would never know if that was possible unless-"

"Whoa whoa whoa, I am not killing someone Sherlock! I refuse to take part in this again if you so much as suggest I-"

"I would never consider making you do something like that. I'm not even sure if you would be a proper test subject for it anyway. Some people are more susceptible to hypnotism then others."

John cocked an eyebrow "Giving me a compliment eh?"

"Hardly, if you couldn't talk on your own the first time for hours after the initial hypnotism then you are clearly very susceptible to some forms of-"

John threw a pillow off the couch at the detective.

"Very mature John. To be fair I think it may have a bit to do with your time taking orders in the military. You're also very prone to taking orders by me on an average day, such as retrieving my phone for me." Sherlock could see his flat mate budging uncomfortably under his watch.

"Don't make me do anything you know I don't want to do." John practically pouted.

"It is impossible for me to know the extent of everything you would or would not like to do while hypnotized…" Sherlock could see John growing more uncomfortable by the second. "But I will of course respect what I believe you want. Now get comfortable."

Sherlock brought his 'John Experiments' notebook back out, it scrawled all over with various notes on their past experiments. He would need to get a new one soon he realized fondly.

This time Sherlock made sure he got a more accurate reading on John's pulse to be compared to his likely lowered pulse while under hypnotism. It also occurred to him that John fell into the trance just a bit quicker this time.

'Interesting.'

Sherlock attempted a few preliminary tests just to make sure John was under and was reacting positively to his demands. Again Sherlock noticed it was going a bit smoother then the first time.

"John? Answer if you can hear me."

There was an audible grunt.

_'Ah, good.'_ Sherlock hadn't actually planned this one out very well, it was more of a spur of the moment experiment. He would need to get John to do something he wouldn't normally do to prove whether it was possible or not, but with the added criteria that it couldn't be anything that would make John mad at him later. Complication.

'Perhaps just a series of commends I could implement later? Ah! That would be most convenient.'

* * *

John awake to a rather pleased looking Sherlock, somehow this situation screamed 'not good.' He cleared his throat nervously. "Well?"

"Hm?" Sherlock was busy writing his final notes in his notebook, he barely had enough room.

"What did you, um, make me do exactly?"

"Oh that. A few things, nothing important. Now I'll test how much you will retain throughout the day."

"Nothing important?! Well maybe I want to know what I was doing? And just what do you mean by 'what I retained?'"

"It's similar to the last one where I could prevent you from talking. They're just simple commands and I will test how you respond to them after being out of your trance and see how much time it takes for the effects to wear off. Tea?"

John eyed the cup next to him and took it, it was warm in his hands, recently made. "But you never make tea… oh my god. I didn't…"

"You did."

John let out a ragged sigh. Obviously he didn't have the control over his mind and body that he thought he had. "And what exactly are these 'commands' you're going to have me do?"

"Honestly I could only think of a few useful ones"

_'useful'_ John scoffed, _'of course they would be things to make me more useful to him.'_

"The internet seemed to have several suggestions for the rest."

Somehow that was far more worrying. If the strange comments left on his blog were any indicator of the intelligence level- and lets be honest- perversion level of the internet, he was in trouble.

Sherlock read the worry on his face, "Theoretically you shouldn't be able to be forced to do something entirely against your will. Again, testing that. But if there is anything that does really bother you, you can call the experiment off."

John nodded; he knew what he was getting into before he went under. It was only fair that Sherlock got to test the results now.

"How long will it last?"

"No idea really. Less then a day based on the last test."

John remembered the command for that one well, "But you didn't say… that again after the first day."

"You can say it you know. I made sure that you will only do something if I'm the one that commends it. Wouldn't want to be irresponsible after all. Oh, and don't be surprised if you find everything I ask to be highly suggestible for a while."

"So what, I'm just to do anything you tell me to?"

"You have specific word commands, but also yes, I might ask you to do something else and you might find you have an urge to obey me."

John didn't like the words Sherlock was using '_demand, obey'_ it was too much like training a dog.

"Now stand up."

John immediately stood, he told himself he did it of his own free will. Maybe he really had, though he wasn't honestly sure.

Sherlock brought his hands into his thinking pose. "We're going to Tesco's. I want to see if being around people will affect your responses."

"Er, are you sure that's a good idea? I don't want to make a scene in public Lock…"

"I will reward you with jam."

_'Jam?'_ John went quiet and a calm acceptance of the situation started to wash over him. He could use some jam… _'No, this isn't right_.' He was almost certain that Sherlock had just done one of his damn 'commands' on him, he shouldn't be this calm about letting his crazy flatmate play mind games with him in public. He began to open his mouth in protest.

"Any flavor of jam you want."

_'Jam.'_ The word repeated in his mind. He liked jam. This wouldn't be so bad, he was just going to do a few simple things and then Sherlock would reward him for being good. _'rewarded for being… what am I thinking? I'm an adult, I can buy all the damn jam I want. Jam…'_

Sherlock watched John's changing expressions carefully, he would see him start to struggle with his thinking process but the calm eventually won over. "So, ready?"

John simply nodded.

"Good."

* * *

:] Thank you everyone for the wonderful suggestions.

I'm always taking suggestions for this story! (and if you have a specific character in mind for an experiment, let me know)

Hypnotism will probably be an on and off experiment through the rest of the stories. I use to be really interested in it and would experiment with it.


	13. Trigger

Chapter 13

Trigger Words

Sherlock decided it was best to walk. He slid a hand through his curly hair, glad the effects of the last experimental mix up was finally out of his system. He didn't really mind the ears or tail, but he hated wearing that damn hat in public. He cast his gaze down at John, following fully willingly, but with a hint of concern on his face, he knew he could suddenly lose control of his actions at any minute based on the whims of his crazy friend.

"Nervous?"

John swallowed, "A bit."

"There could be practical uses to this."

The shorter man eyed him uncertain, '_Did mean in general or with him specifically?'_

"High tension, trouble sleeping, and nightmares."

"You can't be serious."

"You would really give up an opportunity to lessen or even cure all that because you don't trust me?" John almost missed the hint of hurt Sherlock tried to hide in his voice.

"It's not that I don't trust you… just, er."

"Go on." Sherlock's seemed more stern.

"I mean… you wouldn't you know? Make me do weird commands? Like you are today?"

"So you don't trust me." His face was an emotionless mask.

"I didn't say that… I'm sorry. Of course you wouldn't. I dunno. I don't like this mind stuff frankly." He glanced up at flatmate who still made no expression. "I'll consider it." He knew he was already under some sort of calming or compliancy technique, it was a tad unnerving (or at least had been momentarily before the full affect started) but it could be a bit good at night.

Sherlock must have known John was thinking this because the soft smile slowly returned to his face, "You're doing very well so far."

"I'm not doing anything… just following you," _'why did that make me feel so good? Useless praise…'_

Sherlock heard the questioning voice from a short distance away first, he made no indication that he could hear someone calling John's name, but of course they just had to call it again, causing John to turn.

"Oh! Janette!" he didn't think he would see her again after their last awkward phone call ending with her saying she didn't need to waist any more time with him. Overhearing that his flatmate was forcing him to watch porn while he was suppose to go out with her that night likely didn't help matters. "How are you?"

Both men could tell that she was still mad at John, but likely willing to forgive him if she had gone out of her way to get his attention.

"Good, I'm good. Say I was wondering-"

'Ah, of course, the inevitable. She would try and ask John out again in hopes of continuing there… relationship.' Sherlock cringed. 'If only this happened during the placebo test… I would have been able to convince John that he didn't like her because he likes men. Ah, but there is this experiment…'

"John, you look confused." He promptly interrupted Janette.

John had been giving his full attention to Janette until that moment, when he suddenly looked all about him as if he had no idea how he had gotten there. "Sherlock?" his voice was very uneasy. He was sure he had known where he was and what he was doing just the moment before, it felt like a distant memory now, like someone had scrambled his brain.

Janette took an unsteady step closer, "Are you feeling alright?" _'he seemed fine just a moment ago…'_

John knew he recognized the woman from somewhere but he couldn't quite place her at the moment. His blank expression as he looked at her was an obvious indication of this.

"Hit his head earlier, he's just a bit mixed up at the moment." Sherlock put a possessive hand on John's shoulder, "Just taking him out for some air.

Janette eyed the offending hand, and reached to put her own hand against his arm, John looked even more confused by that. "Ah, well call if he needs anything?" '_must be his crazy flatmate he mentioned.'_

Sherlock gave a fake smile '_two can play at that game.'_ "Yes, well, we must be off." His hand slid down and wrapped around the side of John's waist, "This was love, watch your step."

_'Why is he calling me that? I don't even care… I just need a good sit…'_ he wordlessly let Sherlock take the lead, unaware he left a very bewildered ex date watch them leave.

Once out of sight Sherlock turned the smaller man so his back was against a building. He tugged his left arm, making John's body go completely limp as he held him in place.

Sherlock furrowed his brow. That was a bit not good what he had just done. To be fair he was merely preserving what was his. That woman didn't care about John nearly a fraction of the amount that he cared for him. She would simply take John away from him one day and then they would be miserable apart. No, this was perfectly acceptable and Sherlock knew that he had done the right thing. But would John realize that? It wasn't exactly important… and John had let him take him outside knowing he was still susceptible to the hypnotism… even if he had to use his trigger word to get him to accept that… No, John would definitely think this was decisively not good. (Even if by technicality it was for the best.)

"John? Can you hear me? Answer if you can?"

There was a sleepy "Mhm." As response.

"You will not remember the events that just took place. You will wake up and no longer be confused as to your whereabouts. All other commands are still in affect, do you understand?"

"Mhm."

"I'm sorry John…" his voice was a light whisper, "It's for your own good." He gave a firm tug on John's right arm.

He blinked his eyes quickly for several moments. He was outside. Leaned against a wall, with Sherlock excessively close to him. John opened his mouth to ask why they were outside and then closed it. '_The experiment…'_ "What was that one for?"

A faint smile filled Sherlock's face, '_yes, this will work very well_.' "Nothing important. Now, we'll begin." They were just outside Tesco's and Sherlock led his test subject inside.

* * *

A/N: This was short, sorry. I haven't been feeling too well :[

Please R&R

Continuation of this will be very soon. Maybe a day or two.


	14. Sleep

A/N: For Emlock- who called me out on my shenanigans :] Sorry I'm late.

* * *

Chapter 14

Sleep

Sherlock handed John a short list.

"What's this? Milk, eggs, composition book… is this a grocery list? Damn is Sherlock, you said this was for an experiment, you just wanted me to go shopping for you?"

"Would you prefer that I only take you out on experiments then?"

"Wha- well, of course not just… I mean, I already do all the shopping anyway I guess." John headed for the dairy section knowing tall git would follow.

Sherlock could tell John had a certain uneasiness about him and checked down aisles before he entered, often choosing the less populated to empty ones even if they weren't the closest.

"I'm not going to do anything horribly embarrassing to you if that's what your thinking."

"Well how am I supposed to know. Frankly there's a slight gap in my memory from how we got here and I don't like it one bit."

"Ah, well it could have been-"

"Nope, nope, I rather have no idea then have you lie about it frankly. But you can at least look me in the eye and tell me I wont be mad at you for it and it was for a good reason."

"I can assure you it was for a good reason."

John let out a light sigh and crossed an item off the grocery list, "Then I trust you… wait… you didn't say I wouldn't be mad about-"

"We also need jam."

"Don't try to distract me, I already figured that word out-"

Sherlock started to fumble with his hands, "Jam. We really need jam."

Sherlock wasn't sure if he saw Johns eyes momentarily glaze over or not, "Alright alright, I'm just going to drop it if you really do think it was for the best." He checked his basket, "We're just about done here anyway. You uh… haven't made me done much yet. Unless you're just making me forget afterwards." He really hoped that wasn't the reason.

"Only did that to you once." He eyed John up and down. "So you would really let me?" his voice had a hint of skepticism and he likely would have already started making John follow his commands if it was for the strange small amount f guilt he had about earlier.

"Not entirely convinced you didn't have a hand in my mood, but yes, I suppose you can tell me to make an ars of myself now."

Sherlock checked his watch, this test was a time sensitive matter after all. "Alright then, put the shopping basket down, good. Now, on your knees."

"My knees?" He glanced back to double check the aisle was empty.

"John, get on your knees." His voice was a deep baritone of authority and John found he was on his knees before he could even register what he was doing. But was that the hypnotism or just Sherlock's voice? "Your whole body is going to relax in 3, 2, 1," the detective snapped his fingers loudly.

The moment before John was thinking how silly this was but he soon found himself falling forward, if Sherlock hadn't quickly dropped and held him up by the shoulder's he knew he would have fallen face first into the ground.

"I said relax, not fall over."

"Couldn't… help… it." His voice sounded distant from him and he missed the scrunched up annoyed face of his friend.

Sherlock tugged his arm with a quick jolt, John jerked back up and felt slightly more aware of himself. "You're falling in and out of trance now. Hmm." Sherlock pushed John's shoulder's lightly to put him back into an upright position as he still sat on his legs. "Now don't fall asleep, just relax."

John started feeling slightly drowsy again but remained upwards. He barely noticed Sherlock taking his arm and lifting it up, slowly turning it over.

"Holy Shit!" An older teen had started down the aisle and now came over quickly, "He brake his arm?"

_'Break? What does he mean by that?_' John looked at what Sherlock was doing, his arm was completely twisted one and a half times, he couldn't feel it in the least.

Sherlock scoffed, "Obviously not or it wouldn't be straight like this. The muscles are just completely relaxed."

"Then what's he doin' on the floor?" The teen leaned closer to get a better look but John was already feeling too drowsy to care.

_'Piss off'_ he thought but didn't manage to say.

"Hold up- is he hypnotized? I saw something like this on youtube before." His voice was growing annoying louder, they really didn't need an audience.

Sherlock had originally chosen the public location to see if someone under the influence of hypnotism could pass by as completely lucid to their actions by anyone watching, but things were not going according to plan now. "John, wake up, stay with me."

"Sherlock?" a small voice chimed from behind them, "Are you two ok?" Molly looked worriedly at John as Sherlock struggled to pull him to his feet.

Sherlock shot death dagger eyes at the teen until he left, "He wont stay conscious."

Molly shuffled closer and helped support John on his feet. "What happened to him? His he ill?"

Knowing how John felt about people knowing about the experiments, Sherlock gave him a questioning look.

"Tell her… get me… home."

"He's been hypnotized."

* * *

John began gaining back more consciousness as he arrived back at 221B guided by Sherlock and Molly. He instantly flopped down on the couch once he was inside.

"Why would you two go out if he was so tired?"

"He wasn't like that when we left. He just became comatose while in the store, before that the experiment was going fine."

"Why are you experimenting with hypnotism on him? Er… I probably don't want to know the answer actually."

"It's not… like… that." John mumbled into a pillow.

"But, you really hypnotized him then? And it really worked?" Molly's eyes were wide with curiosity.

Sherlock smiled, he took his feat as an accomplishment of his intelligence, "Of course. John?"

"Not now, I'm so tired."

"Make tea."

Wordlessly John got up as if he had never complained about being tired and begand making tea for two.

Molly was awestruck "That's amazing! I mean… wont he be mad though?"

"He let me hypnotize him and to be fair that's very tame compared to what people on the internet had suggested. Bit of a waist though, he makes tea for me when I ask anyway. It's the most complex thing I got him to do, likely because the action is already ingrained in his memory."

Molly furrowed her brow while watching John in an apparent daze wander about the kitchen with a strange sort of consistency. "What did people online suggest?"

Sherlock smiled, "Apparently it's also a popular fetish."

* * *

John thankfully woke in his own bed that morning. He remembered the previous day, but some parts seem to be slightly blurry. The only thing he was really sure of was that it was the first night in a long while that he didn't have a single dream about the war. He lay back in bed and smiled at the ceiling, "That nutter did this."

* * *

A/N: Sorry this chapter was so short :[

I promise next one will be long, it's also one that was requested :D


	15. Bending Light

Chapter 15

Bending Light

John tiptoed out his room, not wanting to wake Sherlock, and began breakfast for two. John was still smiling to himself that Sherlock would actually do something for him, experiment related or not. He hated taking drugs to make the nightmares go away, they drove away the good dreams too, and he didn't want that. He was always the type of man to accept the bad things in life so long as there was occasionally something pleasant.

"Slept well I take it." the baritone voice sounded as if it came right over his shoulder.

John turned, "As a matter of fact I-" Sherlock was no were to be seen. Had he only thought he heard his voice? Did he call out from another room?

"Yes?"

John blinked, the voice sounded so close. "Sherlock?"

"You seem to have a very limited attention span this morning,"

"Bloody hell, where are you?"

"Here." The disembodied voice whispered directly into his ear, breath ghosting across his skin, sending the doctor backwards into the counter top.

"You're invisible!"

"It should appear so." A cup of tea floated upwards on it's own accord, tipping in the air as liquid poured out quickly disappearing.

"Right… why?"

There was a distinctly irritated sigh, "For Science John."

"Of course… but why did you, you know? Do it to yourself?"

"Jealous?" John could practically hear the grin he was sure was there.

"As if." '_Just a little.' _"So you did it because you just wanted to?" '_Actually no, he would find some way for it to be a horrible experience'_

"You're thinking too loud again. But this serves a very good purpose- think of the possibilities for following someone unseen!"

John nodded quickly, "And if someone used it to commit crimes?"

There was a pregnant pause. "I hadn't really thought of that."

"Of course not." He continued making breakfast. "How does it work anyway?"

"Surprisingly simple actually. I'm not really invisible- I'm simply bending all the light hitting me around my body."

John stepped closer to where the voice appeared to be coming from and slowly stuck his hand out. There was a loud sigh before something grabbed his wrist and jerked it to the right. "I'm over here."

John could a boney clavicle, the indent of where neck met shoulder, and a thin arm before pulling away.

"That's amazing… You're really there."

"Indeed. Can't seem to get it off though…" he voice trailed off.

"Get it off?"

"Mhm. Its a bit like paint, used contacts for my eyes- thought it might alert you if you woke up to floating eyes."

John swallowed, "Yea… thanks for that. You might have dyed your skin you realize? Might have to wait for the first layer to die off. And your hair…"

"Thought of that actually. No matter, if it wont come out I could just dye it black."

John nodded again, that should work. "Probably ruined your clothes though."

There was an awkward silence.

"You're naked aren't you? Of course you are…" he shook his head.

Both of their phones buzzed at once, that always meant it was Lestrade texting about a case.

Hyde Park, by the memorial fountain, double homicide, you guys are gonna want to see this one.- GL

John glanced up from reading his own phone at the floating one a few meters away. "No."

"No to what?"

"You're invisible, we are not going."

"All the more reason. It's not like anyone would know anyway. Besides, you could solve the case by yourself- what do you say to that?"

"That's cheating, and no one would believe me, I'm not the genius detective- you are. And you're not just invisible- YOU'RE NAKED."

"Hardly matters. Clothes are only for warmth and for not being seen, if no one can see me then that point seems rather moot."

* * *

A/N: Sorry how late/ short this is, I've been very busy with school DX


	16. Invisible

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter was so late, it wont happen again. I've been very sick with a stomach bug :/

* * *

Chapter 16

Invisible

This was a bad idea. An idea so incredibly bad that John couldn't for the life of him believe that the so called 'genius' had actually come up with it and wanted to implement it.

I was simple enough entering the cab, John simply opened the back car seat and waited until he saw the cushions imprint downward as Sherlock scooted to the far seat, allowing him to get in without suspicion. A moment later he caught himself looking at the way the seat pressed inward where Sherlock sat, it was strangely interesting, until of course he remembered that the man was completely naked and he was essentially looking at his invisible flatmate's arse. He snapped his head up looking away quickly as a muffled chuckle sounded next to him. Today was not going to be easy for John Watson.

It was easy to find the police force, they had already roped the entire area around the fountain off with several officers standing around. Looking down at the grass below him, John could see where footprints had flattened out near him, meaning Sherlock was keeping close for the time being. It was his time to chuckle as he zipped his jacket closed upon feeling the cold weather. He held the crime scene tape up and ducked under, keeping it up a moment longer until he saw the disembodied footprints follow.

"Ah, John, glad you're here, where's Sherlock?" Lestrade asked peering around.

"He's… not here. He was feeling under the weather and sent me instead."

Lestrade gave him a very skeptical look.

"Well I could always leave if you think I'm not up to it, I'm sure Anderson over there could wrap the whole case up for you." He smiled sarcastically.

"No, no! It's fine… just, I mean, you think you can do this?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence…"

A scream broke the tension and Lestrade immediately looked at the dead woman sprawled across the grass.

"Jesus Christ Donovan! Get a hold of yourself, this is hardly the first dead body you've seen." Lestrade marched over followed by John.

"But sir… it… it moved…"

John instinctually leaned down and checked the pulse, there wasn't one. He then checked the body temperature and eyes. "Been dead for aproximaly 6 hours now."

Donovan blushed a crimson red in embarrassment, "But… it really did move…"

John narrowed his eyes, he had a strong dislike of Donovan for the way she treated Sherlock and constantly referred to him as a 'freak,' but she was by no means naïve or paranoid. If she thought she had seen something, chances are, she likely did.

"Married, three year, very happily." A quiet baritone whispered in John's ear.

John bit his lower lip before repeating the words for Lestrade to hear, he didn't like that he was technically deceiving him, but it seemed better then saying _'Sherlock's invisible and butt naked.'_

Lestrade as wall as Donovan raised an eyebrow.

"Uh huh… where's the freak today anyway?" Sally peered around to no avail.

"Couldn't make it." he looked back at the body, "Strangled to death by some sort of chord, seems professional. She struggled at first, likely breaking a few rib bones, but died soon after." He proud that he could see all that by himself.

"The killer was female." The whisper came again.

"Female?" John couldn't see how the detective had figured that.

"How do you know that?" Donovan looked at him suspiciously.

"Oh, well…" he paused awkwardly looking at the body but could think of nothing.

There was a sigh, "The angle of the wire line on her neck. The perpetrator was short, 5" 2' or less. The victim has a very thin throat, bare hands would have done the job easily, unless the killer had small hands with little strength."

"Right, of course."

"What?" Lestrade watched John carefully, it almost appeared he had been quietly listening for the answers to come.

John repeated the gist of what Sherlock had told him. Lestrade nodded, seeming to approve of what he was being told.

Donovan adjusted her weight awkwardly, something seemed very off. When had John become so bloody clever?

"Guess I underestimated you," Lestrade elbowed John while smirking. "Didn't know you could do that too, might give Sherlock a run for his money."

John let out an awkward chuckle, "Highly doubt that." He waited for another informative whisper but when it didn't come he looked down at the grass for a indication as to where his unseen flatmate was, and panicked to find he had left his side. John's eyes grew slightly wider at the realization."

"Go on, what else?" Greg was blown aback John's 'ability' to deduce.

"Erm, hang on a moment…" his eyes scanned wildly across the crime scene looking for foot imprints. There were too many officers obscuring his vision _and honestly, how on earth could Sherlock get by them with no one feeling it?_

Anderson stood two meters away from the body taking pictures of a purse spread open with contents flung across the grass. It had obviously fallen from the victim's shoulder as she fled her attacker.

"Don't forget to include a measuring tape for size and distance relationship." A baritone from behind him said.

Anderson grumbled to himself and continued taking pictures.

"And bag everything separately so fingerprints wont rub off from friction of other materials."

"Damn it Holmes! I know what the hell I'm doing!"

"Could have fooled me." The voice took on a bemused tone.

Anderson swung around ready to yell at the so-called consulting detective, but froze when he saw no one was near him. Silently he went back to taking pictures.

Sherlock bit his lip feeling a smile forming. Had he gone too far? Could he possibly push his limits more?

Anderson looked about once more, blatantly confused and alarmed that the taunts seemed to have originated from thin air. Sherlock was so amused with himself that he didn't see the officer headed straight towards him until he was stumbling to regain his balance after being knocked into.

"The hell was that?" The officer had stumbled all the way to the ground.

"You tripped." Anderson didn't bat an eye.

For once Sherlock was a tad grateful that Anderson really was the absolute moron he appeared to be. There was a strained huff from behind him, he turned to see a steaming mad John, all be it looking in slightly the wrong direction.

"Bloody idiot." John muttered under his breath. "Sorry I couldn't be of much help Greg," he called back "but I should probably go back to the flat now and make sure Sherlock hasn't torn the place up too much." He faked a smile.

Lestrade chuckled and waved him off, "He must drive you crazy mate, I know he does me and I only work with him."

John cringed, Sherlock wouldn't appreciate that one. "He's really not that bad…"

"Ha! He listening in oh ya?"

Sherlock forcefully reached out to take John's hand and lead him back to the street, which was quite a ways from the memorial waterfall. The strange intimacy made John nervous at first, but then it did make better sense then trying to track light foot steps in the grass. The grip tightened suddenly causing John to look up, that's when he felt the first fat rain drop.


End file.
